Archive for March, 2007

stories: Jack’s Mannequin & DC “art” field trip

Jack’s Mannequin:

So Thursday night past Carrie, Aaron, Dylan and I went to the ATS to see the absolutely amazing Andrew McMahon and Jack’s Mannequin (yes I realize he’s their lead singer, but since I like Somethign Corporate better I generally refer to him separately. He writes the songs for both bands and play piano and harmonica and I imagine more. He also survived cancer. He’s this tall lanky guy with an eyebrow ring. He’s pretty much one of my favorite artists.).

So first this guy MC Lars plays (opening act obv.). He’s this white guy with his friend Rob on bass. His mac laptop plays guitar and music outside of the bass (oh my) and he used iVideo with his music. He was an english major in college. He turned Moby Dick and The Raven into rap songs. He was actually pretty good. I liked him. He was funny.

Intermissionish period. Security man asked Carrie and I if we were sisters.

So then Jack’s came on. =] We were all pumped. So they played songs. At one point one of the lights caught fire. Me and Carrie were both thinking the same thing; that light is going to fall and kill Andrew omg. Yeah. But it was okay. It went out. And so I guess Andrew (I say that like I know him… I wish.) is a friendly guy because he would like look the audience in the eyes while performing. So that was awesome. We all felt special. If you were there, don’t even pretend you didn’t. He told a story about an air port and pot cookies. Which ended something like “I had 4 pot cookies. I gave one to Jay Mac (their drummer is Jay Mc-something or other). I had 3 pot cookies left. And I ate them. This story has no relevance what-so-ever except to inform you that I may still be a little bit stoned”. It was amusing. =] So at the end guitar man, bass man, and drum man did mad solos. Andrew danced on his piano and walked on the keys and such. The end.

I absolutely loved it. They played my all time favorite SoCo song (Me and the Moon). So I was totally just like… I dunno. It was amazing.

Washington, DC “art” trip

So it was technically an art field trip… But I do believe you’ll soon find little was remembered about the art portion.

First we visited the Rock Creek Cemetary where Laura was convinced that everything was a house (the mausoleums). And she kept trying to go into them. When we left she kept seeing little houses and asking me if they were mausoleums. I gave up and told her everything was a mausoleum. So everyone, we now all live in mausoleums.

Then we went to the National Shrine, which I assume will have something to do with our country. Nope. Giant ass Catholic church. I’m not gonna lie to anyone, I have some problems with Catholicism. I mean don’t get me wrong. I don’t think like any religion is superior to it or something like that or have something against Catholics. I just am really opposed to some of what Catholics believe. And I’m entitled to that opinion. So the church was cool. There was the crypt church and the upper church. The upper church has bass reliefs of some of the saints in pillars and a large bass relief in the back symbolic of everyone’s individual journey to paradise and holiness. There were a lot of beautifully done mosaics.

But the one at the front dome (there were 5 domes) was a 42 ft angry Jesus. I hate depictions of Jesus as angry. I just do. But it was still pretty. And there was a lot of subtle symbolism in that like the eyebrow raised in disapproval of man kind and the lowered one in compassion. An arm with muscles for human-ness and a robe for mightiness or power or something. Something else for divinity. It was cool. And the alcoves around the permanent shrine representing the mysteries of the rosary (I think that’s what it’s technically called?) were cool. So there’s the sorrowful mysteries, the glorious mysteries and the joyful mysteries and there were mosaics in each of those alcoves to represent those things. (The only fun thing about this church was that I knew most of what he was talking about so I felt smart for learning and remembering so much about Catholicism in the last almost year.)

Anyways I bought these little coins with prayers on the back. The Hail Mary, St. Joan of Arc and St. Maximillian Kolbe (since those are the only two saints I know a lot about and the story behind me and the Hail Mary is long and involves my dad and me when I was younger… no, no one is my family is Catholic either. It was just a weird conversation). Now I kinda wish I had St. Patrick and St. Lucy too since I learned more about them later in the day. But c’est la vie. Mostly they’re just pretty since I don’t pray those prayers or to saints or anything.

So then we ate lunch. OMG exciting.

Then we went to the National Art Gallery. While we were outside this guy gave us stickers for something or another (they say vedabase.net on the side so go there and go crazy). So then we went in. We took the same exact tour I took when I went there with ACT in sixth grade. We had a british woman who took an hour and 40 minutes to look at probably 8-10 paintings (we all wanted her dead). Laura and I went to see the sculptures and then Nate joined us and we went to the East Building to see the modern art. The Jasper Johns prints were really cool. We went in an elevator that was bigger than my room (well not longer I guess, but if you reshaped my room I think the elevator either would have fit it or been a little bigger).

We left there and went to the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery where the art teachers decided we had 3 hours of free time. That’s right; they let a group of teenagers loose in DC and expected us to stay in some museum. Ha! Fuck that. From what I hear most people just went to Starbucks though. And Mrs. Gallagher was in the museum drinking.

Laura, Nate and I spent 20ish minutes in the museum. We saw some pictures and paintings of famous people. Then we saw some sculptures and medal and glass work. Then we tricked Nate into leaving with us.

Because Laura and I decided we had to ride the subway (aka the Metro aka the train because I keep calling it a train). We went down to the station Gallery Place-Chinatown. We asked a nice man what the best way was to go to get to the White House and how to get our fare cards. So we did that and took the Shady Grove train to Farragut station. We got off and walked two blocks to the White House! Yay! We took pictures. We saw a guy who was doing something with signs related to religion and the constitution and a guy with a box on his head talking about being president. And we met a woman who’s been living in front of the White House for 26 years holding an “Anti-nuclear peace vigil” 24 hours a day.

Nate was all “you look like tourists” but we didn’t give a damn. We were afterall. So whatev.

We got back on the metro… at Farragut West instead of Farragut (aka the wrong station) and rode the metro to McPhearsn square where we concluded we had gone the wrong way. We went up and over and onto the train travelling the opposite direction. That took us back to Farragut West. We looked at a map and realized that metro was headed to Farragut North which was in the opposite direction of where we were trying to get back to (Gallery Place). So we switched and got on the train we were on in the first place. We rode it back to McPhearson Square and on to Metro Center. There we got off. We saw this black guy who was kinda cute and wanted a picture of/with Laura and me. We giggled and walked away. (Laura said later “We rode the DC subway and only got hit on by one black guy!” because she’s blond.) We spent a silly amount of time realizing we shouldn’t get on Shady Grove even though it was how we got to Farragut because it was going the wrong way. We got on the Silver Springs train (I think) which went back to Gallery Place.

So we got off safe and sound. And kinda cheated the DC metro system by never repunching our cards till the end when the machine took them from us (sorry DC!).

Nate went back in the museum (lame). Laura and I went to the store for the International Spy Museum and bought bracelets and she got a sweatshirt. Then we left and met up with Amber and Ashley. We walked for a bit and Ashley and I picked up a copy of the Lation Times (in Spanish and published by the Washington Post). Amber and Ashley went into Starbucks.

Meanwhile, Laura and I turned a corner and…………………………………………………………………….. found Chinatown! Omg we were excited. There was Chinese Starbucks and Subway and all such things. We walked up two blocks (keep in mind 1 DC block = 2-3 Carlisle blocks). Then we turned and went back into this little shop. We went upstairs because Laura wanted to get her palm read.

The woman told Laura she wasn’t easily influenced by other’s opinions, would be engaged twice and married once, meet her soul mate at 24, have 3 kids, be known for her writing. The thing about this woman was that she wasn’t vague in the way she said things. It’s hard to describe but the feeling was so eery because she was so right about the things she said and specific in a way.

So after the Laura thing I gave in and decided to get my palm read too. The woman told me that I was passionate, cared a lot about love, would  be married once and have two children, that I wanted to make a change in the world but hadn’t yet, that I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life yet, that I might be good as an actress or some sort of performer, that I should decide by the end of this year, and that in life prosperity would surround me. Not too bad.

We both bought little multi-colored Buddhas and left back the museum. Right before the bus came, a man set up some traffic cones and buckets and a shopping cart and used them as percussive instruments. He was really good!

So then we got on the bus… and sat there for 20 minutes waiting for a girl named Sabba. So this poor girl ended up being lost. We spent 50 minutes extra in DC driving this huge ass bus around (and our driver was kinda bad…) trying to find her. Turns out she was at E 7  and 600 SW and we were at E & and 600 NW. -.- I know right. Street signs suck. It was all nice and orderly but in a vaguely confusing manner…

 We stopped at McDonald’s on the way home and got back about 10:45.

The not stories that simply cover the past few days

I’m mad at two people. One for lying. And one for… well I guess I’m not so much mas as I just have some thinking to do about whether I feel like this person really even considers me a fellow human being anymore.

Long couple of nights. ‘Bout 4 hours of sleep before DC. Ugh. And stuff.

Sleeping over at Chelsea March’s tonight. =] This means creek adventures, going for walks, movie making and food. Yay that! And no icky boys. I’m sick of penises.

I still have to write a concluding paragraph for my english research paper and reformat and revise my work’s cited page. I need to finish reading the first act of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and do the study guide (wait… I don’t know if I even got that…. oh well). And I need to make that brochure for Roper’s class. And I need to look over vocab words, Act I, and Roper stuff for tests/quizzes Monday.

Then TGISB (Thank God it’s spring break!).

Pcitures

Andrew McMahon at his piano Thursday night.

Andrew dancing on the piano.

Laura and me in front of the White House. [me on the left, Laura on the right… duh]

Mausoleum in church form.

Ghetto drums on the corner man in DC.

You’d think that by this age one could wake up on their own and keep one simple promise once in a while. But that never seems to happen. And it’s always supposed to be okay no matter how big or how little the promise.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately and I feel more like someone who’s supposed to feel special for being permitted to stick around rather than someone who’s desired to stay around.

Wow… I feel low. =[

Jack’s is in 15 hours and 12 minutes in case anyone wanted to know.

Something Corporate… Jack’s Mannequin.

Is there some reason they sound so different to me?

Electronics.

JACK’S IS TOMORROW!!!

This evening is unhappy. ='[

…and you don’t care…

“I just wanna say that, um, if you’re a little kid don’t take drugs.” -my baby sis when she was 5

I went through my treasure box tonight and my shoe-box full of angsty poems and reflections.

And I realized I had no idea what love was and in a way, I still don’t.

And I realized what a free-spirited dork I was. =P

I like who I’ve grown up to be now. I’m highly imperfect, but I’ve amazing. I have real self confidence and I know I can carry myself and be fine. I let my emotions out. I have so small ounce of class in me.

At 16 and almost a half, I can honestly say I feel like I’m growing up into something great. I know I’m a dork. And a loser. And I’ve recognized and accepted many things in myself.

I don’t know what will become of my life, but I know it’ll be something that changes someone forever. And if I could impact just one person like that, say something that would stay with just one person forever and give them strength when they need it, I’m satisfied.

I’m all about sharing my wisdom with people. I know I know… 16, how wise can I be right?

Well you’ll just have to trust me when I say I’ve been through a lot with people in and out of hospitals and psychiatric wards when I was 13 and I don’t mean my friends. I’ve just… been dealt a lot. There’s a lot of my plate now.

And somehow I know I’m gonna carry myself through it with some degree of grace.

I wish everyone knew what I knew. I wish people took seriously some of the things I wrote or considered my life and the philosophies and odd thoughts behind it.

Like, God doesn’t close one door without opening another. Nor does he put more on you than you can handle. Most importantly, everything happens for a reason. Everything. Believe me, I know that’s hard to believe.

PS I’ve decided that as I’ve gotten older I’ve become a very pretty person. Just a sidenote.

Why this has happened? What I’m dealing with now I mean. Well I dunno just yet.

I don’t know that God always intervenes. But I don’t think he alters things much because he has a set plan. And I believe that if you pray for forgiveness, strength, serenity, and understanding, you get it. In fact, I know that you do.

Why? Because the only thing I have in life besides myself is God.

I’m in no way a Jesus freak, trust me. My beliefs (some) are a far cry for Christianity even or the Bible.

The God I believe in isn’t vengeful and has changed his ways some and readjusted to life as it has become. Sounds stupid right? Whatever. The God I know has a sense of humor and cares for every living being. The God I know turns tricks for fun and displays wrath when needed to keep us all in line. But the God I know, above all, listens and cares and accepts us all with arms wide open.

Think what you may and believe what you may believe, about me, God or otherwise.

But I feel like I live my life right.

fuck.

I just saw the rest of my life flash before my eyes…

God help me I think if I’m 25 and things are the way I see them, I’m just going to kill myself.

ahem… i use xanga more again? what?

Countdowns of RIGHT NOW [omg 111]:

5ish minutes: soda in the freezer will be cold and I can drink it.

10sih minutes to an hour: homework (ew)

Tomorrow: Doubly study hall Monday madness!!! And fun! (Monday nights are always fun. =D Well, almost always.)

2 days: 11.

3 days: Evil munchkin sister turns 11.

4 days: Maybe Jack’s. Not so sure anymore.

5 days: Washington, DC baby!!

6 days: Samantha’s party (oh fucking joy) and sleeping over at Chelsea’s? I hope.

7 days: Filming and shocking and surprising. =]

8 days: New neighbors move it. =[ But she’s supposed to be REALLY nice. =]

Also 8 days: April Fool’s day which I hate. Not because people play stupid tricks… but for something bad.

Coming soon to an April near YOU:

Battle of the Bands (oh ack…), SPRINGFEST! (which, yes, I do in fact LOVE…. at least I think they’re still having it and I think it’s in April… I wonder if it’s the same week as b.o.b…. probably not…. that would make my next thing wrong…), I’m thinking CHS Battle of the Bands (yay fun), and 12.

Then May, then June, THEN SUMMER VACATION!

Summer Vaca. = some sucky, beach?, Warped Tour!!!, 4th of July, Hershey Park?, Knoebel’s?, Knoebel’s again?, stuff?

Mhm. Spring makes everything insta-better!!!

PS today I drove. And I > Jason tyvm.  Stupid not Jamaican…

-edit 6:05-

Thursday is now OFFICIALLY DEF. Jack’s Mannequin!!!!! I’m so excited!

And I forgot in April Easter and Palm Sunday (Sarah = likes the palms) and Displace Me. =] And in May my baby sis’s musical.

+ Today was gorgeous and I got to drive and found new things on my phone’s camera and did stupid homework but even that couldn’t put me in a bad mood.

Did I mention how much I love spring?

I get seasonally depressed (and angsty and whiny lmao).

When did things get so different?

When did I pick up new habits? When did you stop loving life and start caring only about work?

The kid that I knew a year ago was a scraggly haired hippie kid that sat up at night in his backyard sometimes and let me lick his face and just gave me a weird look. The kid I knew wasn’t so serious. The kid I knew was concerned about just having fun and being a teenager. The kid I knew thought I was stupid for wanting to go to the park that one time, but went with me anyways. And that kid thought it was fun to pick me and scare me on a regular basis. That kid used to spend like 2 hours straight in a room playing bass while I just kinda sat there. And we didn’t talk, but it was in no means a waste of time. That kid tried to help me pass a geometry test, but in the end it didn’t work so well. That kid laughed at me the time we layed in the grass and I tried to hit him and totally missed. That kid walked me home and told me about The Mars Volta and scribbled all over my walls. That kid used to sit up on school nights at 2 am and talk to me on AIM about everything. That kid talked to me about what was on his mind. That kid let me wake him up just so I could hit a modem with a screwdriver and make him roll his eyes and cringe. That kid sat up with me in summer, either talking to me on aim and being goofy or coming to my house and just sitting up all night. That kid layed in the grass with me. That kid always had time to say hey or answer his phone.

That kid didn’t lie because he didn’t think he had too. He wasn’t super wrapped up in his work.

It all seems to come back to that. He just lived. I think he probably got in more trouble… Just leaving his house. But he always seemed so much happier… So much more carefree/

Maybe that was just my perception… but I don’t think so.

What happened to that kid that I wanted to be with so much last year? I want him back.

I feel like I’ve had a shift of perception… Again. But now I’m kinda lost.

baby, I don’t need you

I’m not ashamed of my tears. I’m not ashamed of the few things I’m shallow about. I’m not ashamed of my over-reactions to thing or my inability to always not get mad.

I’m human and perfectly okay with my flaws and imperfections.

I’m not okay with people thinking this means I can just change or that I want to. Or that since I know something logically, the feeling is cancelled out.

My emotions run my head over logic. Peroid.

And as far as changing goes, I don’t wanna change. I like who I am. I don’t mind that sometimes I get upset by little things and I don’t mind that I can’t always control my emotion. If I was perfect… Well I guess I’d like it but I accept me now.

The sooner you realize that I don’t wanna change the better. I’ll change as I grow up and mature. I’ll change the things I want to, like my choice of words and my tolerance to people and events and keeping some thoughts to myself. But if I don’t wanna change it I won’t.

Someone is my house is keeping some big things from me. Someone outside of my house is keeping something big from me.

I’ve had mascara running down my cheeks for roughly an hour and Billy Talen and Carole King in my ear.

I’m sick of this happening though. Everyone understands but you. I don’t know how to make you get it. Everything I say to you doesn’t register. Stop and think about it! But even saying that won’t make you actually stop and focus on it. I’m not worth 100% of your attention ever with one exception… And I hate that exception.

You seem ashamed of me. You lie about seeing me. You lie to me. You won’t listen. You think I’m at fault for most things. In reality, I’m not gonna lie to you, I feel like I’ve made more sacrifices and changes. Now of course I don’t know what it’s like in your shoes being yelled at over me (at least the few times people know where you really are). As far as not seeing people goes, well, I think we’re working that one out. And you shouldn’t be seeing me if you’d rather be seeing someone else anyways. So please just do that like I keep telling you and that way you’ll never have to complain about not seeing people or getting things done.

Be hoenst. Don’t make plans over me. And for God’s sake stop saying I don’t know to everything when it’s very easy to ask someone or just think about it. I hate how you run away from problems we have and don’t care that you leave me here. I hate how you say that you know what I’m going through and then never give it a second thought. If you’re busy and stressed I’m supposed to keep it in mind 24/7 but if I’m having a tough time, too bad for me because you don’t seem to care. You get really pissed anyways.

And for the record, I don’t think me wanting answers and crying is justification for getting pissed off at me. I wanna know what I always do that’s so wrong that makes you so mad. And I wanna know why you take everything I say (like this) as a personal attack and not me telling you how I feel.

We wouldn’t fight if you’d just stop being so full of pride once in a while.

Your pride is getting in the way. Your lying is getting in the way. So are other things… And that’s why we need to talk. I’m not someone who’s in your life that you can just expect to be available whenever and always work around you. God I can’t do that anymore.

And… I might well stop here because there’s so many things I can’t put in writing in a way that will make you not put your fucking fist through a wall.

Am I mad at you this time? Yes. I’m mad at you this time.

And I don’t regret not letting you step on me this time.

put my trust in God that day, not the man who taught his way

That’s why no one really needs church past a very small age.

Once you know what you know and you have faith it’s either gonna stick with you for life or it won’t.

All church is to me is somewhere where on occasion you hear something that makes a small part of you a little sunnier… for about an hour.

Personally, I’d rather be interfacing directly with God than with some guy who read the Bible a bunch of times and decided that this made him superior to the rest of us.

Priest, ministers, whatevers; they’re all only human too.

I wish religious fanatics would get over themselves and stop needing church to reinforce their faith.

You have it or you don’t.

No one is above God. And God is everywhere, not just at church.

So my advice? Unless church truly moves you or you’re still trying to find faith in something, I mean… Well let me rephrase that; if you truly believe you don’t need some guy in robes to stand up and tell you God loves and forgives you.

So I guess the real question is do you really believe and what do you believe in?

I don’t need anyone but me in this world. This is partly why.

je m’aime.

J’ai deux mauvaises habitudes. Je parle trop français. Je march autour dans ma chambre sans sous-vêtements.

J’aime parler francais. Aussi, j’adore manger trop. Et ce soir, je coucherai. Finalement.

I know… I make less sense and sound stupid in French. Mais, je n’arrete pas de parle francais!

I fixed my internet. I fixed my internet. =]

Yes that’s sing songy.

Fuck zoom. WZC. Yeshmm.

I’m a loser… A bored loser. Oh fadamnzzle.

My entire world just came crashing down around me.

It’s not about the fight. It’s not about the shitty day. It’s not about being blown off.

It’s about something big that I don’t feel comfortable talking to almost anyone about.

I honestly have nothing to say.

it’s too late baby now it’s too late but we really did try to make it

Carole King has been stuck in my head all day. And Boys Like Girls. I’m tired.

I ate somewhere near 4,000 calories yesterday.

Thought you might wanna know.

Today? Beats me. Not so hungry anymore…

That one song by the kinks… I do believe the actual title is “I’m not like everybody else” but at the least that’s how it goes.

I adore that song. There’s only one problem; I’m probably exactly like everybody else and I just don’t realize it.

We’re all the same. We all think we’re much more mature than we are and that everyone around us is fake while never acknowledging the fact that most of us act really fake and/or shallow on a daily basis.

And oh it’s so true so suck it up and face the facts, baby.

I choose to try and live my life in the least fake manner possible on a daily basis. But hey there’s some people I just hate but have to be civil towards. C’est la vie, mes amies.

Et now, je need to go to school and go to le classe de francais thing.

Boo.

Now see it’s been a long weekend. And week. The good parts have been great but the bad things are gonna stick in my head for a while.

I want my allowance money and I want some new lipgloss and some shorts.

I wanna feel pretty and respected. I’m sick of feeling like people either think I’m just hot, or that I’m ditzy and stupid, or that they’re jealous of me, or that I can’t dress and I’m just weird and awkward.

I wanna be looked at as someone who’s pretty or beautiful and not always hot. I wanna be seen as smart but not arrogant about it and not an over achiever (I’m really not). I wanna be seen as well put together and classy (hey, I can be when I have to be) and… I dunno.

I wanna be seen for who I am (not the negative aspects); strong, confident, opionated, pretty, caring, stuff. I wanna be respected.

Sure I’m neurotic and crazy and OCD and maybe a little anal and whiney and a procrastinator (or is it er…) and crazy and… and… stuff.

I’m an artist. I’m a musician. I’m truly my own person. And I don’t wanna be seen as just a body and a brain.

No one is that simple.

look at my bursting veins

I don’t feel bad. I don’t feel good. I feel weird. Like it’s the end of the world and I’m the only one left around. But I don’t feel lonely or like I’m alone, just like the way I said.

I dunno. This is weird. And it kinda sucks.

fuck you

I hate myself and the rest of the world.

Please kill me.

Why am I so depressed this year?

God… Wtf… Why do I always just let myself be beaten over the head and shoulders and ego slapped. I hate who I am now.

what the hell was i thinking

People never change. I am so incredibly stupid for thinking anyone ever would. I’m an idiot for thinking things would break out of their negative pattern. I was stupid for believing the cycle was going to change.

Jack’s with CEB on the 29th?

FUCKING RIGHT.

=D

(I absolutely adore you.)

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