It's Christmas, and I'm sitting alone in my room writing another stupid blog post. I guess I don't have to be writing. I could be doing something else, like reading or looking at dumb things on the internet. Alone, yeah, that's kind of a given. This Christmas has been so...different. It used to be that we'd gather at Nona and Gramps's house in Chicago, have maybe 13 or 14 of us hanging out together all day, playing games or talking or cooking or whatever. This year it's in Alabama, since N and G have moved down here to be near Aunt Jan and Uncle Greg. So we've been splitting Christmas between the two houses, sort of. All the family gatherings have been at J and G's house, but that's only been for part of the day. Seven hours or so, most of which is spent either dealing with food-related activities or staring blankly at whatever the hell happens to be on TV. Food-related activities are kind of standard, but the cooking generally only involves the women (so I have barely gotten to talk to my male relatives at all) and the eating is kind of a sore spot for me. I mean, delicious food, hell yes, but I feel like I've gained about fifty pounds and that isn't exactly doing good things for my self-esteem and mood. Booooo.
So I spent most of the family-time helping in the kitchen, which I guess is okay but I wish I could've done more socializing with the whole family. I played Rummikub with Greg, John, and Gramps for awhile, which was awesome. We did all the gift-exchanging things, which was also awesome--I got many, many delightful things--but there just wasn't time to sit around and just...be with family.
The rest of they day(s) I've spent at N and G's house, since that's where I'm sleeping. Time here basically consists of sitting...alone...reading...surfing the web...whatever...boring. I've spent some time with N and G, talking or whatever, but as much as I try, there's only so much time I can spend with them. I love my grandparents but they can be very abrasive people. And then Mom, Dad, Brian, and Amy are staying at a hotel, which splits our family up even more. Christmas is not quite as Christmasy when the family's all split up. I guess it's good that we're able to spend any time together at all, but it doesn't feel right.
Some people might write some schmaltzy drivel about "Therefore, Christmas is not about what you get but who you spend it with." I guess. I mean...on the presents front, I couldn't be happier! The family bit is what makes it all so weird. So I suppose I'm seeing it two different ways...so Christmas is both fantastic and disappointing. I don't know if that makes any damn sense at all. It does to me.
The highlights of my Christmas loot:
$350 plus $125 in gift cards
The Beatles anthology book
Little Miss Sunshine DVD
Blue Like Jazz and Life of Pi--two of my favourite books
a bunch of clothes, including a black Beatles sweatshirt
Burt's Bees lip gloss
a delightful-smelling candle that's going to look so cute in the apartment
and before I left Bloomington, Katie gave me some books, two of which are also on my favourites list
et cetera.
And tomorrow I'll see what Santa left. Haha. I love that we still do the Santa thing, sort of. But now we all do it. My siblings and I put stuff in our parents' stockings, and for whatever reason they still put stuff in ours. I hope that doesn't end anytime soon, but Mom sounded like she wanted to be done with that tradition. Meh. I hope it keeps up.
And theeennn...the 27th is Mom's birthday! I'm so excited about the thing I got for her. She's been talking about how she needs a new 2008 calendar, so I got her one.
Holy fucksticks, I'm bored.
I guess I should get to bed before my grandpa yells at me again. Last night he yelled at me at midnight to go to bed: "Why are you still up? Go to BED!" and not in a friendly jocose manner either. It sounded like the voice people use when they're so mad they could hit you. However, my response was just "No, I'm fine, I'm not tired yet." Because I am twenty-one fucking years old and I can figure out when I'm tired. And I can decide on my own when to go to bed.
And of course I'm not going to go to bed now, probably stay up and surf the web a bit longer, but I've run out of things to say.
I didn't even fucking listen to Sufjan Stevens' Christmas album today. That's how un-Christmasy it's been.
Hope yours was Christmastacular.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Holiday cheer, I guess
Merry Christmas!
Fun Christmas fact: Myrrh--the stuff one of the wise men brought to the baby Jesus--is used as an embalming fluid. Foreshadowing much?
Fun Christmas lie: Santa Claus gives his reindeer large doses of amphetamines so they can go fast enough to deliver presents to all the children of the world in one night.
Fun Christmas fact: Myrrh--the stuff one of the wise men brought to the baby Jesus--is used as an embalming fluid. Foreshadowing much?
Fun Christmas lie: Santa Claus gives his reindeer large doses of amphetamines so they can go fast enough to deliver presents to all the children of the world in one night.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
No one I think is in my tree
I would be exaggerating if I said that this trip to Alabama has been a nightmare. It hasn't, really. I mean, I love seeing extended family, and Christmas is always a fun time. But I have been seriously ON EDGE this whole time.
All day yesterday I was in the van with Mom, Dad, and three siblings. Not bad, really, although I didn't like having to be ON for so long. I need time to myself periodically throughout the day, and you don't get that when you're driving from Indianapolis to Montgomery. Then there was the whole fiasco with the photograph...oh God...which involved Mom panicking and berating herself, Dad firing orders at me while chewing gum right next to my ear, some computer gymnastics that only I knew how to do but Dad thought he'd tell me what to do anyway, a frantic trip to CVS to print a stupid photo, blah blah blah...then we had to go pick my grandpa up, which was okay, except that somehow it was a huge production and everyone was going batshit and then Brian fucked with my seat in the van and I yelled at him and then the position of my seat hurt so I flinched and evidently that was grounds for my mom yelling at me.
That's the right thing to do when an autistic kid starts to get overwhelmed. Yell at her for it. Yeah.
So then I had to go hang out with my entire family for the rest of the night, which actually involved meeting two new people. Grand. And then people got drunk and loud and there was food everywhere and football on TV and I just stared into space for like two hours straight. Normally I would want to catch up with my cousin, because I only see her every couple years, but her boyfriend's here and anyway I have a really hard time starting conversations and whatnot.
In addition to all that, I'm bored out of my fucking mind.
On the plus side...tomorrow's Christmas Eve! We're going to church around 5ish, and I get to wear a lovely black lacy outfit and Julie's tall shoes. Then we're going out to dinner which I'm actually dreading because I feel so fat I don't ever want to eat ever again. But whatever. Then we're going back to J and G's house to open presents! I like that part. It's always fun.
I wish we were in Chicago, though.
Christmases in Chicago were so much fun, and I always knew what was when and where and why, and we were all staying in the same place and it wasn't boring and it was friggin' Chicago--I love Chicago! And if I did ever get bored there I could just walk to the library or challenge Uncle Greg to a game of Parcheesi. Tonight was Scrabble night, but I didn't get to play.
I guess I like it here--I mean, it's certainly agreeable and I like my family and I like the houses and I like the city but it's UNFAMILIAR. I don't know what to expect, although I'm starting to expect boredom and overstimulation. I am holding out hope that once it's Christmas everything will be okay.
Got a call from Navah tonight--evidently my friends in Greenwood are going to Steak 'n' Shake tonight. Of course. I was home for a week before I left for Alabama, and I wanted to go out with people, but not until I leave do people start wanting to go out. To be fair, some people didn't even get home until recently. But still. I miss my friends. I miss my Greenwood friends and I miss my college friends. I miss my comfort zone.
Blah.
On the plus side, I created a super-amazing playlist last night...
Anyway, sorry for all the self-indulgent whiny babbling. I'm frustrated and upset and hoping it gets better soon. Maybe I'll write more later, because I definitely have more to talk about.
All day yesterday I was in the van with Mom, Dad, and three siblings. Not bad, really, although I didn't like having to be ON for so long. I need time to myself periodically throughout the day, and you don't get that when you're driving from Indianapolis to Montgomery. Then there was the whole fiasco with the photograph...oh God...which involved Mom panicking and berating herself, Dad firing orders at me while chewing gum right next to my ear, some computer gymnastics that only I knew how to do but Dad thought he'd tell me what to do anyway, a frantic trip to CVS to print a stupid photo, blah blah blah...then we had to go pick my grandpa up, which was okay, except that somehow it was a huge production and everyone was going batshit and then Brian fucked with my seat in the van and I yelled at him and then the position of my seat hurt so I flinched and evidently that was grounds for my mom yelling at me.
That's the right thing to do when an autistic kid starts to get overwhelmed. Yell at her for it. Yeah.
So then I had to go hang out with my entire family for the rest of the night, which actually involved meeting two new people. Grand. And then people got drunk and loud and there was food everywhere and football on TV and I just stared into space for like two hours straight. Normally I would want to catch up with my cousin, because I only see her every couple years, but her boyfriend's here and anyway I have a really hard time starting conversations and whatnot.
In addition to all that, I'm bored out of my fucking mind.
On the plus side...tomorrow's Christmas Eve! We're going to church around 5ish, and I get to wear a lovely black lacy outfit and Julie's tall shoes. Then we're going out to dinner which I'm actually dreading because I feel so fat I don't ever want to eat ever again. But whatever. Then we're going back to J and G's house to open presents! I like that part. It's always fun.
I wish we were in Chicago, though.
Christmases in Chicago were so much fun, and I always knew what was when and where and why, and we were all staying in the same place and it wasn't boring and it was friggin' Chicago--I love Chicago! And if I did ever get bored there I could just walk to the library or challenge Uncle Greg to a game of Parcheesi. Tonight was Scrabble night, but I didn't get to play.
I guess I like it here--I mean, it's certainly agreeable and I like my family and I like the houses and I like the city but it's UNFAMILIAR. I don't know what to expect, although I'm starting to expect boredom and overstimulation. I am holding out hope that once it's Christmas everything will be okay.
Got a call from Navah tonight--evidently my friends in Greenwood are going to Steak 'n' Shake tonight. Of course. I was home for a week before I left for Alabama, and I wanted to go out with people, but not until I leave do people start wanting to go out. To be fair, some people didn't even get home until recently. But still. I miss my friends. I miss my Greenwood friends and I miss my college friends. I miss my comfort zone.
Blah.
On the plus side, I created a super-amazing playlist last night...
Anyway, sorry for all the self-indulgent whiny babbling. I'm frustrated and upset and hoping it gets better soon. Maybe I'll write more later, because I definitely have more to talk about.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
A Music Novice Critiques Music. Oh No.
I'm watching the Top 40 Music Videos of 2007 on VH1, and I have some thoughts. Here's some kind of a review with commentary. Or whatever.
Every once in awhile I like something by The Killers. "Read My Mind" is an awesome song to scream-sing in the car when you're pissed or upset or otherwise feel like screaming.
Regina Spektor, will you marry me?
I never understood the appeal of Fall Out Boy. Cute pop culture reference in the band name. Completely unlikable music. I guess if you're fifteen and rebellious, and you want to listen to music that absolutely nobody except angry 13-16-year-olds can relate to just to spite the evil adults...or if you find yourself in a crowd of people at the freshman formal and need something to scream to...no, I guess I really don't get it.
Oh my God, Bruce Springsteen. I don't understand a bloody word he's saying because I think he might have a mouthful of marbles and marshmallows, but otherwise he sounds great and can play the hell out of the guitar.
Avril Lavigne has been through about three hundred bottles of black eyeliner this year alone, it looks like, and she still looks like a seventeen-year-old. Go figure. But oh no, she's GROWN UP! Why? I guess it's because she's singing a sad song. Apparently kids don't sing sad songs, only adults do. And the mark of adulthood is, apparently, sad songs. Okay, Avril, here's a tip. If you're going to talk about how grown-up you are now, don't squeal it like a seventh-grader on speed while the camera zooms out on your pink-pink hair and gallons of black eyeliner...grown-ups don't do that.
Um, but I think I might like the song, whatever the heck it was called.
Maroon 5 are not quite as overrated as Fall Out Boy, but getting there. So they wrote an angry song. Oooooh. Noteworthy? Nah. Gets on my nerves? Yeeeaaahhh.
Feist! Will you have a threesome with Regina and me?
Oh, no. Fergie squeezed another hit out of that hellmouth album of hers. Clumsy? Oh, shit. How completely fucking annoying. Let's see...
Fergalicious: completely fucking annoying
London Bridge: completely fucking annoying
Glamorous: completely fucking annoying
Big Girls Don't Cry: I had hope there for about five seconds
Clumsy: the secret trapdoor level of hell that opens when you aren't being tortured quite enough in the ninth circle
I shudder to think of what might come next.
I thought I would like [Chris] Daughtry. Let it be known that I just don't. I mean, seriously. Has anything good come from American Idol yet? Okay, Kelly Clarkson still makes me smile, even if I don't really like (or remember) her music. Whatever. Point is, [Chris] Daughtry irritates me.
Point One: You're a kid who just lost a reality show. Not a rock star yet. This means that you aren't quite at the point where you can do something pretentious like insist that people refer to you by last name only. "Oh, my first name is a thing of the past. I'm so badass I don't even need a first name." Go away.
Point Two: "I'm Going Home." That godawful song. Evidently it's a song about the rigors of touring and being happy to go home after being on the road with the band. I don't know, I guess I would expect a song like that to come from somebody who has some experience with touring and stuff. Coming from somebody who just got kicked off a reality show, I always assumed the song was about losing American Idol. "I'm Going Home." Because I lost.
Point Three: Who even won that season? Was it someone who sucked? Probably. I want Taylor Hicks to go away, away, away. I would have sex with Chris Daughtry if it meant that nobody would ever talk about Taylor Hicks ever again.
In other news, Alicia Keys is hot and has a great voice and can play the friggin' piano. I always try to imagine what music of our generation will be respected forty years from now like the Beatles and Bob Dylan are now. I think Alicia Keys will be one of those.
I never really like-liked Pink, but I always had a sort of respect for her. Maybe because she said words like "ass" and "hell" on the radio when I wasn't allowed to curse. Or maybe because she seemed as badass as I wanted to be.
Timbaland can suck it. He's talented. Whatever. I'll concede that. But I hate everything he touches. We'll just have to agree to disagree.
Is Elliot Yamin just popular because he has curly hair and sings like an injured puppy?
Amy Winehouse...just...stop it. We get it. You're completely and totally fucked up in every way possible. Hey, you know what? I bet you could still sing like a champ and look even hotter if you stopped destroying your brain cells with God-knows-what. Or not. Whatever. Amy Winehouse has built her public image on the glorification of her self-destructive tendencies, and there might not be a way to reverse that. We'll see, I guess.
Fuck you, Carrie Underwood. You aren't cute. You aren't badass. You're barely talented. You aren't even...palatable. Also, you aren't really "country" either. You're trite-pop-with-a-twang. I can't stand that stupid "Before He Cheats" song. Hey, teenage girls of America. Here's an idea for you. If you suspect that your boyfriend is cheating on you, don't talk to him about it--destroy his car. And carve your name somewhere so the police can be super-certain of who did it. Somebody failed to take into account that while cheating is not a criminal offense, vandalism is. So fuck you, Carrie Underwood, for advocating illegal behavior while disguising it as "like omg grrrrrl power!!1!!!1!" And for sucking at music.
Every emo band needs to give up and bow to the All American Rejects. You don't get more emo than that. Well, other than the originals. You really don't get more emo than Joy Division. I mean, consider. But if we're talking modern-commercial-emo, AAR is the saddest of the sad.
I HATE HATE HATE that song "Bubbly" by Colbie Cawhatever. The lyrics are just...gross. I'm not usually one to pay attention to lyrics much, but seriously. What the hell is a bubbly face, other than what happens when someone dumps a pot of boiling oil on your head? And Colbie. Colbie, Colbie, Colbie. Your name is misspelled cheese. Aside from that, what would be wrong with a tiny bit of vocal inflection? This song is totally uninteresting and the lyrics make me squirm because they're just so icky. There's no other word. Icky.
Nickelback...were they ever good? Did anyone ever believe that they were good? Did something terrible happen to Chad Whatshisname's voice, or is it supposed to sound like that? So many questions.
I know "Hey There Delilah" has been played about twelve gazillion thousand billion times everywhere. I don't care. I love it. I love the Plain White T's. The song is overplayed but for me, it never gets old. Well, not yet. We'll see. The lovely guitar-ness keeps it alive for me.
When did Nelly Furtado get skanky?!
"Stronger," by Kanye "Asshole" West. You'd do anything for a blonde WHAT? Oh, fuck. Somehow, this man's music continues to be popular. I guess it's catchy. Oh my God, and he's bloody hideous too. Not to throw a low blow, but Jeeeeesus, the sunglasses...oh, wait, I think it's just the sunglasses. Without them he's okay-looking. With them I think I'm in danger of turning to stone. In any case, could he be more misogynistic? It's great how so many people buy into this crap if it's packaged right.
Rihanna is, um...I guess she'd be attractive if her hair didn't suck. And if she weren't so skanky in the "Umbrella" video. Eh-eh-eh-eh. What does it even mean? I guess it's something sexual. I managed to avoid hearing that song all summer, but of course as soon as I got back to school and started hanging out with people who keep up with popular music...it's everywhere. Rihanna-whose-name-I-don't-know-how-to-pronounce (do you say the 'h'?)...does the term "one-hit wonder" mean anything to you? Not that I really know or anything, but I can't see her doing much else after the ridiculous commercial success of a song about inclement weather gear.
What might the #1 video of 2007 be? Let's see. My guess is "Crank That." Soulja Boy. Oh, yuck, I can't believe I just typed that shit. Soulja? What the fuck is Soulja? It sounds a little like "soldier" and looks a little like a Scrabble abortion.
Oh my God, it's Fergie again. "Big Girls Don't Cry." The one that almost gave me hope there for a few seconds. It's, like...surprisingly not-slutty. And although I'm hesitant to trust that her voice hasn't been tweaked to perfection, it sounds good. I guess she sounds like she's trying too hard with the voice, though, come to think of it. Like she's straining to sing throughout the whole song. Um, that isn't normal. That's actually really bad for your voice. Fergie? Stop it. If you really can't sing, admit it. If you can sing, take care of your voice so it doesn't suck worse in a few years.
So, this makes me wonder, where was "Crank That" in this? Maybe that song was just a bad dream. I hope so.
Well shit, now I'm tired. If I hear any one of these songs in my head as I'm trying to fall asleep, I will claw my face off. Although, lately I've been hearing "Get Low" in my head, and I guess it doesn't get much worse.
Ooh, you touch my tra-la-la.
Every once in awhile I like something by The Killers. "Read My Mind" is an awesome song to scream-sing in the car when you're pissed or upset or otherwise feel like screaming.
Regina Spektor, will you marry me?
I never understood the appeal of Fall Out Boy. Cute pop culture reference in the band name. Completely unlikable music. I guess if you're fifteen and rebellious, and you want to listen to music that absolutely nobody except angry 13-16-year-olds can relate to just to spite the evil adults...or if you find yourself in a crowd of people at the freshman formal and need something to scream to...no, I guess I really don't get it.
Oh my God, Bruce Springsteen. I don't understand a bloody word he's saying because I think he might have a mouthful of marbles and marshmallows, but otherwise he sounds great and can play the hell out of the guitar.
Avril Lavigne has been through about three hundred bottles of black eyeliner this year alone, it looks like, and she still looks like a seventeen-year-old. Go figure. But oh no, she's GROWN UP! Why? I guess it's because she's singing a sad song. Apparently kids don't sing sad songs, only adults do. And the mark of adulthood is, apparently, sad songs. Okay, Avril, here's a tip. If you're going to talk about how grown-up you are now, don't squeal it like a seventh-grader on speed while the camera zooms out on your pink-pink hair and gallons of black eyeliner...grown-ups don't do that.
Um, but I think I might like the song, whatever the heck it was called.
Maroon 5 are not quite as overrated as Fall Out Boy, but getting there. So they wrote an angry song. Oooooh. Noteworthy? Nah. Gets on my nerves? Yeeeaaahhh.
Feist! Will you have a threesome with Regina and me?
Oh, no. Fergie squeezed another hit out of that hellmouth album of hers. Clumsy? Oh, shit. How completely fucking annoying. Let's see...
Fergalicious: completely fucking annoying
London Bridge: completely fucking annoying
Glamorous: completely fucking annoying
Big Girls Don't Cry: I had hope there for about five seconds
Clumsy: the secret trapdoor level of hell that opens when you aren't being tortured quite enough in the ninth circle
I shudder to think of what might come next.
I thought I would like [Chris] Daughtry. Let it be known that I just don't. I mean, seriously. Has anything good come from American Idol yet? Okay, Kelly Clarkson still makes me smile, even if I don't really like (or remember) her music. Whatever. Point is, [Chris] Daughtry irritates me.
Point One: You're a kid who just lost a reality show. Not a rock star yet. This means that you aren't quite at the point where you can do something pretentious like insist that people refer to you by last name only. "Oh, my first name is a thing of the past. I'm so badass I don't even need a first name." Go away.
Point Two: "I'm Going Home." That godawful song. Evidently it's a song about the rigors of touring and being happy to go home after being on the road with the band. I don't know, I guess I would expect a song like that to come from somebody who has some experience with touring and stuff. Coming from somebody who just got kicked off a reality show, I always assumed the song was about losing American Idol. "I'm Going Home." Because I lost.
Point Three: Who even won that season? Was it someone who sucked? Probably. I want Taylor Hicks to go away, away, away. I would have sex with Chris Daughtry if it meant that nobody would ever talk about Taylor Hicks ever again.
In other news, Alicia Keys is hot and has a great voice and can play the friggin' piano. I always try to imagine what music of our generation will be respected forty years from now like the Beatles and Bob Dylan are now. I think Alicia Keys will be one of those.
I never really like-liked Pink, but I always had a sort of respect for her. Maybe because she said words like "ass" and "hell" on the radio when I wasn't allowed to curse. Or maybe because she seemed as badass as I wanted to be.
Timbaland can suck it. He's talented. Whatever. I'll concede that. But I hate everything he touches. We'll just have to agree to disagree.
Is Elliot Yamin just popular because he has curly hair and sings like an injured puppy?
Amy Winehouse...just...stop it. We get it. You're completely and totally fucked up in every way possible. Hey, you know what? I bet you could still sing like a champ and look even hotter if you stopped destroying your brain cells with God-knows-what. Or not. Whatever. Amy Winehouse has built her public image on the glorification of her self-destructive tendencies, and there might not be a way to reverse that. We'll see, I guess.
Fuck you, Carrie Underwood. You aren't cute. You aren't badass. You're barely talented. You aren't even...palatable. Also, you aren't really "country" either. You're trite-pop-with-a-twang. I can't stand that stupid "Before He Cheats" song. Hey, teenage girls of America. Here's an idea for you. If you suspect that your boyfriend is cheating on you, don't talk to him about it--destroy his car. And carve your name somewhere so the police can be super-certain of who did it. Somebody failed to take into account that while cheating is not a criminal offense, vandalism is. So fuck you, Carrie Underwood, for advocating illegal behavior while disguising it as "like omg grrrrrl power!!1!!!1!" And for sucking at music.
Every emo band needs to give up and bow to the All American Rejects. You don't get more emo than that. Well, other than the originals. You really don't get more emo than Joy Division. I mean, consider. But if we're talking modern-commercial-emo, AAR is the saddest of the sad.
I HATE HATE HATE that song "Bubbly" by Colbie Cawhatever. The lyrics are just...gross. I'm not usually one to pay attention to lyrics much, but seriously. What the hell is a bubbly face, other than what happens when someone dumps a pot of boiling oil on your head? And Colbie. Colbie, Colbie, Colbie. Your name is misspelled cheese. Aside from that, what would be wrong with a tiny bit of vocal inflection? This song is totally uninteresting and the lyrics make me squirm because they're just so icky. There's no other word. Icky.
Nickelback...were they ever good? Did anyone ever believe that they were good? Did something terrible happen to Chad Whatshisname's voice, or is it supposed to sound like that? So many questions.
I know "Hey There Delilah" has been played about twelve gazillion thousand billion times everywhere. I don't care. I love it. I love the Plain White T's. The song is overplayed but for me, it never gets old. Well, not yet. We'll see. The lovely guitar-ness keeps it alive for me.
When did Nelly Furtado get skanky?!
"Stronger," by Kanye "Asshole" West. You'd do anything for a blonde WHAT? Oh, fuck. Somehow, this man's music continues to be popular. I guess it's catchy. Oh my God, and he's bloody hideous too. Not to throw a low blow, but Jeeeeesus, the sunglasses...oh, wait, I think it's just the sunglasses. Without them he's okay-looking. With them I think I'm in danger of turning to stone. In any case, could he be more misogynistic? It's great how so many people buy into this crap if it's packaged right.
Rihanna is, um...I guess she'd be attractive if her hair didn't suck. And if she weren't so skanky in the "Umbrella" video. Eh-eh-eh-eh. What does it even mean? I guess it's something sexual. I managed to avoid hearing that song all summer, but of course as soon as I got back to school and started hanging out with people who keep up with popular music...it's everywhere. Rihanna-whose-name-I-don't-know-how-to-pronounce (do you say the 'h'?)...does the term "one-hit wonder" mean anything to you? Not that I really know or anything, but I can't see her doing much else after the ridiculous commercial success of a song about inclement weather gear.
What might the #1 video of 2007 be? Let's see. My guess is "Crank That." Soulja Boy. Oh, yuck, I can't believe I just typed that shit. Soulja? What the fuck is Soulja? It sounds a little like "soldier" and looks a little like a Scrabble abortion.
Oh my God, it's Fergie again. "Big Girls Don't Cry." The one that almost gave me hope there for a few seconds. It's, like...surprisingly not-slutty. And although I'm hesitant to trust that her voice hasn't been tweaked to perfection, it sounds good. I guess she sounds like she's trying too hard with the voice, though, come to think of it. Like she's straining to sing throughout the whole song. Um, that isn't normal. That's actually really bad for your voice. Fergie? Stop it. If you really can't sing, admit it. If you can sing, take care of your voice so it doesn't suck worse in a few years.
So, this makes me wonder, where was "Crank That" in this? Maybe that song was just a bad dream. I hope so.
Well shit, now I'm tired. If I hear any one of these songs in my head as I'm trying to fall asleep, I will claw my face off. Although, lately I've been hearing "Get Low" in my head, and I guess it doesn't get much worse.
Ooh, you touch my tra-la-la.
Monday, December 17, 2007
I'm not failing college!
Music (Z101): A+
Gender Studies (G225): A-
Phonology (L307): B
Sociology (S370): B+
Psychology (P324): A+
Yaaaayyyy I don't suck at life! Although, I'm disappointed about my phonology grade. The only reason it's so low is that I didn't understand the final project and ended up getting a 70% on it. However, I'm just lucky I didn't fail, since I kind of missed the final exam. Which, by the way, I took on Friday and got a 96.7%! Fourth highest in the class! Sure saved my ass from that final project atrocity. So my GPA is like a 3.6 or something...I think I can be happy about that. Not too bad for me.
I made and decorated about a trillion sugar cookies today. I found the best recipe EVER. Sweet Jesus, these cookies are delicious. And they're pretty too!
I have this thing with blankets...I like them. I bought another blanket today. It's a purple chenille throw and I'm kind of in love with it. I mean, yeah, I just got a green blanket, and I'm in the process of crocheting a pink and brown one, and I crocheted a teal one awhile ago, and....yeah. I like blankets.
So anyway, I am bored as FUCK.
Gender Studies (G225): A-
Phonology (L307): B
Sociology (S370): B+
Psychology (P324): A+
Yaaaayyyy I don't suck at life! Although, I'm disappointed about my phonology grade. The only reason it's so low is that I didn't understand the final project and ended up getting a 70% on it. However, I'm just lucky I didn't fail, since I kind of missed the final exam. Which, by the way, I took on Friday and got a 96.7%! Fourth highest in the class! Sure saved my ass from that final project atrocity. So my GPA is like a 3.6 or something...I think I can be happy about that. Not too bad for me.
I made and decorated about a trillion sugar cookies today. I found the best recipe EVER. Sweet Jesus, these cookies are delicious. And they're pretty too!
I have this thing with blankets...I like them. I bought another blanket today. It's a purple chenille throw and I'm kind of in love with it. I mean, yeah, I just got a green blanket, and I'm in the process of crocheting a pink and brown one, and I crocheted a teal one awhile ago, and....yeah. I like blankets.
So anyway, I am bored as FUCK.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
MERRY CHRISTMAS
MRS CREAMY SHIRT
METH RIMS R SCARY
MERCY THIS R MARS
CRY MR SHIT REAMS
RECTYM RIMS RASH
MRS METH I R SCARY
RAMS R MERCY SHIT
HIT MR MERCY SARS
MY CHAIRRR STEMS
MRS HISTRRY CAME
CRAM MERRY SHITS
MERRY SHIT CRAMS
MERRY CRAM SHITS
This is what Brian and I do for fun at 4am. Half of them don't make any sense but they're funny anyway. Because....I don't know. What the hell are chairrr stems? Who cares--right now the only thing that matters is the fact that RECTYM is making me giggle uncontrollably.
Next edition: HAPPY HANUKKAH (or should we use CHANUKAH?)
Anyway, the MERRY CHRISTMAS blocks are now arranged to say MRS CREAMY SHIRT...I can't wait until someone else notices. This is my kind of Christmas tradition.
METH RIMS R SCARY
MERCY THIS R MARS
CRY MR SHIT REAMS
RECTYM RIMS RASH
MRS METH I R SCARY
RAMS R MERCY SHIT
HIT MR MERCY SARS
MY CHAIRRR STEMS
MRS HISTRRY CAME
CRAM MERRY SHITS
MERRY SHIT CRAMS
MERRY CRAM SHITS
This is what Brian and I do for fun at 4am. Half of them don't make any sense but they're funny anyway. Because....I don't know. What the hell are chairrr stems? Who cares--right now the only thing that matters is the fact that RECTYM is making me giggle uncontrollably.
Next edition: HAPPY HANUKKAH (or should we use CHANUKAH?)
Anyway, the MERRY CHRISTMAS blocks are now arranged to say MRS CREAMY SHIRT...I can't wait until someone else notices. This is my kind of Christmas tradition.
I will be with you when you lose your brain
Brittany and I met in Mrs Burton's 7th grade math class. I think. It's a bit of a blur, I guess. I mean, we had five classes plus lunch period together that year, so it could have been any of those, but math was first period so I'm calling that by default. Anyway, she was 11 and I was 12. That kind of seems like forever ago.
Well, now I'm 21 and she's turning 20 today. A lot has happened in the time we've been friends. I was in love with her for awhile--quite awhile. And then when I stopped being in love with her, I kind of did a total 180 and started to find fault in everything she said and did. But then, more recently, I started to realise that she is really a very cool person and a very good friend and I am ridiculously lucky to have her in my life. Anyway, happy birthday, Metallica Blue.
I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do if she ever reads this blog. Not a bad sort of explaining, though. Just an explanation to connect the dots and trace my thought processes.
In other news, I'm in Greenwood. Again. Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks are way too close together. But as for the adjustment factor, so far so good. Finals were actually stressful, for the first time ever, so that distracted me a bit from dreading the transition from Bloomington to Greenwood. I started freaking out a bit once I had to think about actually packing and actually leaving, but it turned out okay. Kate drove me to Greenwood, and she stayed for a little while and hung out with my family--the overlap period really, really helps me. I can't really explain it, but for some reason, having that little bit of time where my Bloomington life and my Greenwood life intersect so comfortably...it makes things better. Plus, I love the Christmas season. Making cookies! Wrapping gifts! Seeing family!
I burned some cookies today...
Here's my five seconds of bragging about myself: I am really awesome at making cookies. I love doing it, and I have this weird intuition where I don't exactly have to measure the flour, and I don't exactly have to set a timer on the oven, and I have the whole process down so fluidly...and I very rarely screw up.
So anyway, I screwed up tonight. I was making peanut butter blossoms, the ones with the Hershey's kisses in the middle. I put the last cookie sheet in, and after ten minutes I saw that they were almost-but-not-quite-done. Like, they needed about 45-50 more seconds. So I closed the oven door and resumed doing dishes. Like I said...I don't exactly have to set a timer on the oven...so anyway, about five minutes later, I could swear I was doing something important, but what on earth was it...ohhhhh right.
Anyway, the peanut butter hockey pucks were barely edible, but at least I'd gotten 3 dozen done successfully beforehand. Tomorrow I'm doing sugar cookies, and let me assure you, they will be delicious works of art...and I might set the timer so I don't screw them up.
If anybody is actually reading this and can think of an awesome anagram for MERRY CHRISTMAS...let me know. It must use all of the letters and doesn't necessarily need to make sense. The more inappropriate the better, of course.
I'm going to go play with blocks now.
Well, now I'm 21 and she's turning 20 today. A lot has happened in the time we've been friends. I was in love with her for awhile--quite awhile. And then when I stopped being in love with her, I kind of did a total 180 and started to find fault in everything she said and did. But then, more recently, I started to realise that she is really a very cool person and a very good friend and I am ridiculously lucky to have her in my life. Anyway, happy birthday, Metallica Blue.
I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do if she ever reads this blog. Not a bad sort of explaining, though. Just an explanation to connect the dots and trace my thought processes.
In other news, I'm in Greenwood. Again. Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks are way too close together. But as for the adjustment factor, so far so good. Finals were actually stressful, for the first time ever, so that distracted me a bit from dreading the transition from Bloomington to Greenwood. I started freaking out a bit once I had to think about actually packing and actually leaving, but it turned out okay. Kate drove me to Greenwood, and she stayed for a little while and hung out with my family--the overlap period really, really helps me. I can't really explain it, but for some reason, having that little bit of time where my Bloomington life and my Greenwood life intersect so comfortably...it makes things better. Plus, I love the Christmas season. Making cookies! Wrapping gifts! Seeing family!
I burned some cookies today...
Here's my five seconds of bragging about myself: I am really awesome at making cookies. I love doing it, and I have this weird intuition where I don't exactly have to measure the flour, and I don't exactly have to set a timer on the oven, and I have the whole process down so fluidly...and I very rarely screw up.
So anyway, I screwed up tonight. I was making peanut butter blossoms, the ones with the Hershey's kisses in the middle. I put the last cookie sheet in, and after ten minutes I saw that they were almost-but-not-quite-done. Like, they needed about 45-50 more seconds. So I closed the oven door and resumed doing dishes. Like I said...I don't exactly have to set a timer on the oven...so anyway, about five minutes later, I could swear I was doing something important, but what on earth was it...ohhhhh right.
Anyway, the peanut butter hockey pucks were barely edible, but at least I'd gotten 3 dozen done successfully beforehand. Tomorrow I'm doing sugar cookies, and let me assure you, they will be delicious works of art...and I might set the timer so I don't screw them up.
If anybody is actually reading this and can think of an awesome anagram for MERRY CHRISTMAS...let me know. It must use all of the letters and doesn't necessarily need to make sense. The more inappropriate the better, of course.
I'm going to go play with blocks now.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Nobody's business but the Turks'
Hey! I'm 21!
I always said I wouldn't drink (alcohol) on my 21st birthday, just to be spiteful and kind of rebellious.
Yeah, fuck that.
However, I only had 2 wine coolers, at 3.2% alcohol, which I am told is almost nothing. I don't know. I was definitely tipsy, but not too much. My mom was sure I'd end up with a headache, and I am pleased to report that I did not get a headache, and I did not throw up like Mom thought I would, and I felt awesome when I woke up this afternoon. So there.
There are still a couple of those left in the fridge and I've been eyeing them all night. I'm waiting until after my gender studies final, though.
Anyway, I went shopping today. I found some excellent articles of clothing on clearance at Old Navy and Target--I came home with 2 T-shirts, a fleece pullover, a sweater, 4 pairs of socks, and 4 candleholders. Including the money I spent for lunch...$45. Hooray! And I still have a couple more textbooks to sell back! Haha. I love the end of the semester. Cash for books. Hell yes.
This sweater is seriously, ridiculously comfortable.
And it's pink. I don't remember where I heard this, but apparently "Tits always look better in a pink sweater." Mine do.
Really, I'm just killing time until my laundry finishes. It'll be excellent to have clean clothes. I mean, I know I just bought a friggin' wardrobe, but it's always great to have clean underwear.
Here's something that makes me happy: They Might Be Giants' version of the song "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)." Cracks me up.
There are streamers and balloons EVERYWHERE in this apartment. While I was out taking my final on Monday night, Kate and Farz decorated the living room and kitchen with streamers, balloons, posters, "happy birthday" signs...it's insane. Insane in the most awesome, fantastic, "my sisters rock my world" sense of the word. We had a candlelit dinner (Chinese takeout!) and had more cake (my parents brought a cake when they came on Sunday) and it was the cutest fucking thing EVER.
Woo! Laundry just finished!
I always said I wouldn't drink (alcohol) on my 21st birthday, just to be spiteful and kind of rebellious.
Yeah, fuck that.
However, I only had 2 wine coolers, at 3.2% alcohol, which I am told is almost nothing. I don't know. I was definitely tipsy, but not too much. My mom was sure I'd end up with a headache, and I am pleased to report that I did not get a headache, and I did not throw up like Mom thought I would, and I felt awesome when I woke up this afternoon. So there.
There are still a couple of those left in the fridge and I've been eyeing them all night. I'm waiting until after my gender studies final, though.
Anyway, I went shopping today. I found some excellent articles of clothing on clearance at Old Navy and Target--I came home with 2 T-shirts, a fleece pullover, a sweater, 4 pairs of socks, and 4 candleholders. Including the money I spent for lunch...$45. Hooray! And I still have a couple more textbooks to sell back! Haha. I love the end of the semester. Cash for books. Hell yes.
This sweater is seriously, ridiculously comfortable.
And it's pink. I don't remember where I heard this, but apparently "Tits always look better in a pink sweater." Mine do.
Really, I'm just killing time until my laundry finishes. It'll be excellent to have clean clothes. I mean, I know I just bought a friggin' wardrobe, but it's always great to have clean underwear.
Here's something that makes me happy: They Might Be Giants' version of the song "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)." Cracks me up.
There are streamers and balloons EVERYWHERE in this apartment. While I was out taking my final on Monday night, Kate and Farz decorated the living room and kitchen with streamers, balloons, posters, "happy birthday" signs...it's insane. Insane in the most awesome, fantastic, "my sisters rock my world" sense of the word. We had a candlelit dinner (Chinese takeout!) and had more cake (my parents brought a cake when they came on Sunday) and it was the cutest fucking thing EVER.
Woo! Laundry just finished!
Sunday, December 9, 2007
I fell on the ground
So there's this controversy about the movie "The Golden Compass." I haven't seen it, so I don't yet have an opinion on it. Wait. See that? I'm not making snap judgments. Whoa. But I have heard what the controversy is about, that the movie promotes atheism and the idea of "killing God." So of course the Christian right has gone apeshit.
When was the last time there was a huge media controversy about, say, a sexually explicit song lyric? An inappropriate popular toy marketed to children? A style of dress or a dance craze or a television show...and so on.
You don't hear a word from the right-wingers about "superman that ho."
You don't hear a word about Bratz dolls.
You don't hear a word about size 6X string bikinis.
You hardly hear anything anymore about video games that teach people to kill.
You hardly hear anything about rap lyrics that glorify violence, materialism, and promiscuity.
"Oh, but it's different. The Golden Compass is targeted at children! Children don't hear the inappropriate rap lyrics!"
Bull. Shit.
And it isn't just children that matter. It pisses me off to see people my age who act pious and religious and conservative all day, all week--until the weekends, when they put on low-cut glittery tops, low-rise jeans, and dry-hump every guy in the room to the beat of the latest heinous hip-hop song. Likewise, it pisses me off when those same conservative right-wing-parroters organize frenzied boycotts of a movie they haven't seen because it "apparently" has atheist themes...but they're quite okay with consuming the cultural product that is the vulgar rap music.
I may or may not see the movie, and if I do, I may or may not like it. I would never, ever, EVER deprive myself of a point of view or a context or a reference. If you want to have an opinion on something, right-wing America, you had fucking better be informed. I read websites and articles that I know will make me mad. Know your enemy. Anything else is ignorance.
Oh, and by the way? Maybe The Golden Compass is an atheist text. I don't know that, but for now we'll presume it is. Isn't it just fair to give the atheists some airtime? I mean, I'm a Christian and don't personally agree with atheism, but for the sake of fairness...let's not shut out beliefs that don't happen to correspond with our own.
If your faith is strong enough, it will not be swayed by anything, especially a movie. If your faith is not strong enough, you have better things to do than argue about a movie.
I believe in informed, enlightened, intellectual discussion. I believe in open-mindedness. I believe in faith. I believe that God thinks we're hilarious but loves us anyway. I believe that we, as humans, have better things to do than arguing. I believe that Jesus would be ashamed of the public image of Christians nowadays, but overwhelmingly proud of the efforts of some individuals. I believe that he would love us all anyway. I believe that intellect and faith are not opposites. I believe that God gave us the ability to think for ourselves. I believe that we should not form our opinions from the opinions of others--and that includes religious leaders. I believe that religion is corrupt but God is perfect. I believe that God decided, about 21 years ago, that the world needed a lesbian with Asperger's Syndrome who would be passionate about music and art and the written word. I believe that I need to be who God wants me to be. I believe that The Beatles were, in fact, the best and most influential band in history. I believe that mass media and popular culture are insidious, corrupt, and disgustingly enticing. I believe that listening to the radio is pointless and cheapens the experience of hearing music. I believe that the people you love the most can be the most frustrating.
My best friend told me today that she doesn't know what I believe. Period. Might that possibly be because you don't listen to me? And might I be slightly less willing to explain everything when you make me feel like everything I believe and feel is somehow wrong?
So there's that. I'm upset, but apparently a Talk will be happening soon, so it should be okay.
In other news, I'll be 21 in less than 24 hours!
I'm exhausted. More later, and perhaps it'll be more cheerful.
When was the last time there was a huge media controversy about, say, a sexually explicit song lyric? An inappropriate popular toy marketed to children? A style of dress or a dance craze or a television show...and so on.
You don't hear a word from the right-wingers about "superman that ho."
You don't hear a word about Bratz dolls.
You don't hear a word about size 6X string bikinis.
You hardly hear anything anymore about video games that teach people to kill.
You hardly hear anything about rap lyrics that glorify violence, materialism, and promiscuity.
"Oh, but it's different. The Golden Compass is targeted at children! Children don't hear the inappropriate rap lyrics!"
Bull. Shit.
And it isn't just children that matter. It pisses me off to see people my age who act pious and religious and conservative all day, all week--until the weekends, when they put on low-cut glittery tops, low-rise jeans, and dry-hump every guy in the room to the beat of the latest heinous hip-hop song. Likewise, it pisses me off when those same conservative right-wing-parroters organize frenzied boycotts of a movie they haven't seen because it "apparently" has atheist themes...but they're quite okay with consuming the cultural product that is the vulgar rap music.
I may or may not see the movie, and if I do, I may or may not like it. I would never, ever, EVER deprive myself of a point of view or a context or a reference. If you want to have an opinion on something, right-wing America, you had fucking better be informed. I read websites and articles that I know will make me mad. Know your enemy. Anything else is ignorance.
Oh, and by the way? Maybe The Golden Compass is an atheist text. I don't know that, but for now we'll presume it is. Isn't it just fair to give the atheists some airtime? I mean, I'm a Christian and don't personally agree with atheism, but for the sake of fairness...let's not shut out beliefs that don't happen to correspond with our own.
If your faith is strong enough, it will not be swayed by anything, especially a movie. If your faith is not strong enough, you have better things to do than argue about a movie.
I believe in informed, enlightened, intellectual discussion. I believe in open-mindedness. I believe in faith. I believe that God thinks we're hilarious but loves us anyway. I believe that we, as humans, have better things to do than arguing. I believe that Jesus would be ashamed of the public image of Christians nowadays, but overwhelmingly proud of the efforts of some individuals. I believe that he would love us all anyway. I believe that intellect and faith are not opposites. I believe that God gave us the ability to think for ourselves. I believe that we should not form our opinions from the opinions of others--and that includes religious leaders. I believe that religion is corrupt but God is perfect. I believe that God decided, about 21 years ago, that the world needed a lesbian with Asperger's Syndrome who would be passionate about music and art and the written word. I believe that I need to be who God wants me to be. I believe that The Beatles were, in fact, the best and most influential band in history. I believe that mass media and popular culture are insidious, corrupt, and disgustingly enticing. I believe that listening to the radio is pointless and cheapens the experience of hearing music. I believe that the people you love the most can be the most frustrating.
My best friend told me today that she doesn't know what I believe. Period. Might that possibly be because you don't listen to me? And might I be slightly less willing to explain everything when you make me feel like everything I believe and feel is somehow wrong?
So there's that. I'm upset, but apparently a Talk will be happening soon, so it should be okay.
In other news, I'll be 21 in less than 24 hours!
I'm exhausted. More later, and perhaps it'll be more cheerful.
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