Ever have a moment where you absolutely FREAK OUT. Like, not just a mini, "Oh shit, I have a lot of a work that needs to be accomplished!" freak out, but an absolute, "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I'm fucked!" freak out. I mean, it's so bad that you combine explecatives and holy names in one sentence.
Yeah, I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out because I have a paper due friday on a topic that I still don't understand. I was supposed to read a book for tomorrow that I'm about to try and finish in about...ten minutes? There's still stacks of reading that need to be finished by tomorrow, and about fifteen math problems that I need to do for Thursday.
Next week is the week from hell. Monday is a killer with a linguistics test, and Tuesday is the punch in the gut. Math test in the morning, Geology test on lord knows what that evening. I work Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.
Wednesday, my final journalism project is due. And then? Then maybe I can take a breath.
Tomorrow I need to find time to go apply for a job. My mom got me a job at Costco in Louisville for the summer. While it's sweet that they pay top dollar, I know I'm going to hate myself come mid-June when I'm driving back and forth from Louisville to Lexington. I hate just thinking about it, makes me want to throw something. Better yet, smash something.
Needless to say, I need to take a breather. Seriously, I hate when I work myself up this much, there's no point in doing it. Eventually, everything gets done. Sure, it may not be up to par, but things have to come to an end. The semester will come to a close, and I'll spend a few relaxing weeks in Louisville before everything starts up again. Hello, interneship. Please don't kill me.
And yeah. Don't even get me started on this internship. I'm freaking out a little as I type this.
I need a good night of watching some good old boob-tube with friends.Thankfully, the Office retunrs next week.
Could it be any more gorgeous outside? I mean, I guess it could be. It's partly cloudy, and I suppose it if were mostly sunny it'd be a bit more beautiful out. I can't believe I just answered my own rhetorical question. Someone once told me that they hated when they heard someone answer their own questions. Sometimes saying things outloud, though, can help one come up with an answer. Or maybe I'm just making up a lame excuse. You make the call.
I'm reading a 999-line poem, and one of the lines goes like this:
"Between a star of trillium and a stone,
Pressend on the turf. A little phalange bone"
Seriously. Trilllium and a stone rhymed with A LITTLE PHALANGE BONE. Genius. Kudos to you, Vladimir Nabokov.
I feel pretty horrible about skipping my english class, but I don't have a rough draft to pass around, so it'd be a waste for me to come. I wish I had a rough draft, but I have no idea what to write about. Essentially, I'm screwed.
How do I get myself in these situations? Oh yeah, I'm a huge slacker. OH WELL.
Is it Friday yet? Could I ask any more rhetorical questions? Yes, I could. And I'll answer them while I'm at it.
I'm in the list-making mood.
Concerts I've seen (since the very beginning):
-Backstreet Boys, 1999?
-Brittney Spears, 1999?
-N*SYNC, 2000?
took a break in the concert scene...
-Jason Mraz, 2003
-Bob Schneider, 2004
-Warped Jr. Tour, 2004
-Interpol, 2005
-Fire the Saddle, 2005
-The Killers, 2005
-Iron & Wine w/ Calexico, 2006
-The Stills w/ Rogue Wave, 2006
-The Avett Brothers, 2006
-Belle & Sebastian w/ The New Pornographers, 2006
-Death Cab for Cutie w/ Ted Leo + The Pharmacists, 2006
-Yo La Tengo, 2007
-Margot & the Nuclear So and So's, 2007
-TV on the Radio, 2007
I totally feel like I'm leaving something out, but I can't remember it right now. Other list type things:
- I'm a goose.
- I might see Sufjan Stevens in concert.
- I'm ready for the summer.
- I might be the summer photo editor.
- I'm going to the Derby with the Herald-Leader. (Dude. THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND MIGHT BE THERE.)
- I'm thinking about running for assistant photo editor.
- I wish I could kick someone in the shins right now. But if given the chance, I would totally wimp out.
Good gravy, I love the Talking Heads.
ETA: DUDES I FORGOT A BAND. I saw the Killers in 2005. It sucked.
After spending the majority of my Spring Break at home, I've come to realize how lame of a week it can be. I hate being that friend who makes the phone calls and sounds needy. Please invite me to something, make me feel like I belong. I mean, that's not me. It's not that I need these people, it's that I enjoy their company. And I enjoy getting out of my house every once in awhile.
I've been listening to a lot of music. This girl, Cam, listens to a lot of Her Space Holiday, and I decided to look into it. There's this song, Japanese Gum, that reminds me so much of myself. Or, rather, what I could become. I'm really such a mess, and at the rate I'm going, I can see it becoming pretty horrible. It's something I should keep in check, something I try to watch for when I'm out. I don't want to get involved with people, and don't want people to get to know me that well. It's incredible how when people really get to know the real me, the messed up, confused person, they distance themselves. I've lost two people in a matter of months, and it's all from the same thing; I open myself up a little and suddenly they make themself scarce. It's the same speech each time, and it's becoming somewhat trite.
So it's almost predicatble that when I meet someone I have a remote interest in, I decide not to persue it. Why set myself up for that speech, for that scenario that leaves me sitting in the passenger seat, staring at the window, trying to block out what they're saying. Just nodding like I care and understand, pretending that I'm prefectly fine.
Anyways, back to Her Space Holiday. Awesome music, and the lyrics really tend to punch me in the gut. They're quite powerful. Example?
I used to think that I knew
My way around this town
Since you're not around
I never thought that I would say this
But I miss my mom
Even though for all those years
We didn't get along
And when I stop to think about it
I guess we were the same
Too stubborn to apologize
Too filled up on rage
I watched "Half Nelson" last night. If you haven't seen it, go out and rent itnow. Ihaven't watched such an emotionalmovie in such a long time. It really affected me in a way I didn't think it could. I felt connected to Ryan Gosling'scharacter, my emotions were at such a high state. I literally could feel my stomach tighten, I was so nervous and cared so much for his character. Gosling's performance was amazing, his acting definitely carried this movie. It's a little disjointed and slow at times, but Gosling's performance as a drug-addicted inner-city school teacher is top notch. So go rent it. Now.
What else?
I really wish I had someone special in my life right now. It'll happen eventually, but there's this empty feeling inside me. It's tough, when you want to just talk with someone, but you don't know who that someone is. And sometimes, when you think you've found that perfect person, they pull the rug out from under you.
It's not that I'm afraid to move on, or that I don't want to move on. It's just that everytime when I feel I'm ready for change, I see his face or his smile and suddenly I'm back to square one.
p.s.-I'm not going to make the first move.
Why am I so socially awkward? And narcassistic. How does one improve the fact that they're so self-absored? I'm ashamed of it, really.
But back to the social awkwardness. I'm not a funny or fun person. Hell, I wouldn't want to hang out with me I'm that much of a loser. There's potential there, somewhere deep inside, for me to be this funny, outgoing witty conversationalist, but I feel like little moments like tonight seem to spit on my potential's weak flame. Gross, man. Gross.
The week is almost over and Spring Break is so close, I can almost taste it. Yes, Louisville, I my tastebuds are anticipating your sweet sweet flavor. Knowing me, I'll be spending the majority of it as a bum, sitting on my couch and watching the good ol' boob-tube. The thought of watching hours and hours of Felicity gets my blood pumping. I definitely won't be wasting this week of freedom.
Does anyone read this? I like to hope that my words at least reach a few people, and maybe one of you all will happen to peruse over my words and shout out, "YES! I agree! I'm so socially awkward, and boy is it a downer."
Debbie-Downer. At least Debbie-Downer spoke.
It's not that I'm mute, but I feel like everything that comes into my mouth holds little importance. It wouoldn't really matter if I interjected, and in fact I really don't want to interrupt because that's rude. And it's hard to relate when I'm hanging out with people older than me. Really, it isn't but for some reason I felt like I screamed youngin'.
Friday is almost here.
Music for you:
Sometimes I get these wild, crazy thoughts in my head. I make crazy plans and have unbelievably high expectations for my future. I've been told that I really expect too much from myself, but if I didn't set the bar high, then I'd really be a complete failure. I like to try and strive for things, to make certain accomplishments in life. If we didn't have goals, what would be the point of anything? You've got to have something behind you to get you from Point A to Point B, from morning to night. If I were a lazy ass, I'd sleep all day and wouldn't be able to see the sunrise and sunset. Spend my mornings drinking coffee, and my nights in the newsroom.
It's almost strange how a majority of my friends here at school are older than me. Sure I've made friends in my class, but it seems that the people I hang around the most are sophomores and juniors. And damn those juniors with their plans and their GREs and grad school and internships. Not that I should be speaking, since I have an internship next year, but still, if I learned anything from high school it's the time you lose time faster than you lose the remote of a new television. In the blink of an eye, it's gone. And if I want to go to grad school, I really should start working harder. This slacker lifestyle that I do so well isn't going to cut it. I mean, I don't slack at the newspaper, but man I'm letting math kick my verbal/linguistic ass. I was doing some research on J-School, and I know it's way above my reach, but Berkeley would be awesome. I've always wanted to live on the West Coast, and getting some journalism and photojournalism training out there would be awesome. Especially at Berkeley. But whatevs. I'm getting ahead of myself.
My body is exhausted, so I think I'm going to give it some well needed rest after the semi all-nighter I pulled last night.
One last thing: Unreciprocated love really takes a toll on a person. I'm looking forward to the day where my emotions aren't on this fragile balance based on how chance encounters and conversations with this person go. When I can walk into the room and not feel anything. Eventually it'll go away, given time. It has to.
Music for you:
You know how people always have a certain thing they want to do before they die? Well here's my totally facetious thing I want to do before I die:
See The Arcade Fire in concert. I cannot die until I see them live.
Well, I'd really like to see Sufjan Stevens live, too. Maybe they should both come to a festival, that way I could hit them both up.
It's crazy, that it's nowing right now. Why must the weather insist on pissing me off? And why do I make everything about me. I read somewhere about how our generation has become extremely narcassistic, and I do believe that. I hate starting sentences with "I", but there's nothing I can really think of starting it with. Crap.
There's a lot of homework that needs to be accomplished tomorrow. Definitely not looking forward to it. However, the week after this upcoming week is SPRING BREAK. And a big cheer for spending it at home. I'd really like to drive up to Chicago sometime and visit one of my besties, but I know she's very busy right now and I don't want to be in the way.
It's been awhile since I've updated this thing. I took the link off Facebook just because. I replaced it with my 43things page. 43 things I'd like to accomplish.
Is it lame that I'm usually never sober enough for the Saturday night Limestoners to bother me? Because right now, I'm so incredibly lucid that every sound outside is bothering me. Right now there's some belligerent yelling going on right below my window.
This is going to be a long week. Wednesday should be good, though.
You know how people say that deaths happen in threes? Sometimes I feel like that rule is spot on. Right now I hope it isn't, because if number three comes through, I might be shattered.
There was this old woman, Ms. Anne, who lived next door to us. Her house is dilapitated, she has cardboard covering her windows, and lives alone. We always worried about her, and meant to invite her over for dinner one day.
Ms. Anne passed away last week. The Meals-On-Wheels woman came running over to our house, banging on the door. My sister came to the door, and they called 9-1-1.
So now her old hound dog, Molly, is all alone. My mom has been putting out food and water for her. My mom spoke to Ms. Anne once, and she said the reason she rescued Molly from the shelter was because she was old. She didn't want Molly to outlive her.
Molly came over today looking for food. When we brought it out to her, her tail was wagging. I wish I took a picture of it. Stupid me, I left my camera at school.
My father's co-worker's son died in a car accident last week. He flipped his 4-runner on the Windsor Rd. exit off the MoPac; apparently he swerved his car so that the passengers wouldn't be injured. He was valedictorian of his class at South Oldham, and an all around ace student. I read an article about it in The Daily Texan. Seems like Jonathan Hooper was an amazing guy.
I was envious of him when my dad told me he was going to UT-Austin back in the fall.
My aunt and cousin were hit by an 18-wheeler this evening. They were driving to Austin to meet my cousin at Kenichi's. Their both ok (I think), but still. They were hit by a semi-truck and shut down all of I-35. Seriously.
----
I was going through my old journal yesterday and found this entry I had written on the eve of my graduation. This line caught my eye:
"So here's to the summer. And hoping that somehow, something will happen. Maybe I'll meet someone, do something, or find something that'll make me not dread the next four years. Something that makes me look forward to the University of Kentucky."
I think I've found it.
Oh, Valentine's Day. The day in which I get tons of free candy, and my parents send an obligatory, "We love you!" card, along with some pajamas.
I never really know what to write in here anymore. My life has been painfully dull lately.
My friends and I signed on a lease for an apartment for next year. I'm incredibly excited. You're invited to come over, if you'd like. We'll all make you some dinner, and we could watch The Life Aquatic or episodes of The Office. I can promise you that Thursday nights will be happening, since we'll all be getting our weekly doses of John Krasinski.
Seriously, I'm so excited to be living in an apartment with three other girls who LOVE John Krasinski. It's a recipe for success, my pretties.
I'm reading Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk right now. It took me awhile to really get into to it, but the past two geology classes have given me enough time to really get some serious reading done. This book is blowing my mind. I'm loving it. Almost as much as I loved A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Almost.
What else?
I really want to go to Bonnaroo. THE POLICE ARE PLAYING. THE EFFIN' POLICE. AND REGINA SPEKTOR. AND AND AND...COLD WAR KIDS.
I can hardly stand it. I can also hardly stand how empty my wallet and bank account are.
I'm still sorry, if it counts for anything.

on Rosie Thomas-Say Hello (feat. Sufjan Stevens)