HOUSE, among other things.

I don't watch the show House on a regular basis, or ever really, but a friend recently got me to watch an episode due to the briliant writing. I'll give him props, because it was very well written... Speed dating.. dating on crack.. concise to say the least.. Anyways, in this certain episode this girl (incidentally, donna from that 70's show) came down with some mysterious whatever after whatever. Point is, she was an obsessive blogger and the fact that they showed how blogging CONSUMED HER LIFE, and how she shared everything with the internets, my little new-to-blogging-heart stopped for a moment. I'd like to believe I'm sort of detached from the internet as it is, but this whole blogging thing, I like it, but in the scheme of things, it's just an easier way to write in a diary. I mean, I haven't written anything personal or incriminating (ahem) yet, and I'm not really sure where I'm going with it. When classes start and I'm writing scholarship essays and looking at my AP lit, I'm not sure if I'll be able to continue. On the other hand, maybe it will provide some fantastic release for me to vent.. I sincerly hope I can continue, it feels like something that could be useful. PLUS, no one reads this but me, so it is really a diary.
On a more or less un-related note I have been having a very strange day. I woke up around 9 after about 6 hours of sleep, when Jessie was getting changed to go to her work. I usually roll over (keep in mind that I am at her house, it's sort of my house as well) and go back to bed, but for some reason I was compelled to wake up with her today. Made myself a warm drink with her gas stove, frightening experience, and called my mother to ask her if she wanted to venture into white rock. She did, so I sat down and dozed while reading a magazine about Ricky Gervais (awesome man) until my mom arrived in an hour or so. When she came I grabbed my things, thanked Lena (jessies mom) and headed off. Unfortunately, my mother pulled the i-picked-you-up-so-you-must-run-errands-with-me card, and I had to go to winners and more. She dropped me off HOURS later and I saw my brother and his best friend, and then passed out on my bed for a couple of hours. I woke up to wind (it's been marvelously windy, if that's a word) and then called a friend. I guess none of that sounds too weird but I was definitely walking around in a haze all day and felt very out of sorts. Ended up bussing to my friends house, discussing blackberries with his brother, eating AWESOME chicken club pizza, panago I love you, and watching Iron Man. Dissapointing, nevertheless, I for some reason went through an extreme emotional crisis, one which was one of those, reminsciing back to self concoius fears from youth which awaken and bring strange emotions with them. Anyways, I sort of went a little insane, and my friend (who choses to remain nameless) was fantastic... I was really afraid, to sing this one song for some reason, although I sing around him and other people all the time. For some reason I just could not bring myself to do it, and the more I decided I couldn't do it the more I physically decided I couldn't. Then I entered some sort of like, stalemate where I couldn't do anything, and to help me, he forced (i was mad at the time but now thankful) me to freesttyle rap, which was interesting, and then to make whale noises, which didn't work out well, and then just made random noises. After that I was totally fine, but for some reason I had a legitimate breakdown. It was odd, but I'm glad he helped me through it. It's hard because I'm not sure how deep I'm willling to delve her, and how much info I'm willing to divulge.
Anyways, I'm tired, I need to goddamn pack, and I want to watch Two Lovers.
Night
xoxo
gossip girl

SO.

This is where I'm going tommorow.

I'm only going for the weekend but for some reason I'm finding packing to be very difficult.

I guess it's because their weather is similar to ours, in the way that it can never decided if it's sunny or rainy. Last time i was in seattle was for Bumbershoot in September. That was amazing; Franz Ferdinand, Metric, Elvis Perkins, Cold War Kids, Micheal Franti, Eric Hutchinson...

Anyways, I won't update at all this weekend I guess... I will most likely be drenched in rain, taking a lot of photographs. I find that photography helps me connect to places. I see them in a different light.

Outside, by your doorstep,

in a worn out suit and tie,

I'll wait, for you to come down,

where you'll find me,

where we'll shine.

Yesterday I public transit-ed out to White Rock where I met up with about eleven friends or so.

We made baked goods and listened to Zelda theme music, among other things.

It was a very, clarifying experience, in the respect that it reminded me that:

isolating myself is a bad thing, and I have a tendency to just hang out with one friend all the time

my friends in white rock are very funny and wonderful people who make me feel very good about myself/ are these crazy messes of old-school and indie, and nerdy

video games are a universal language

people who you have a lot of history with will more or less be there for you

brownies don't always have to be brownies

my new glasses are very loved

TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT DREAMS, DREAMS

tell me what you know about night terrors: nothing.

You don't really care about the trials of tommorow;

rather lay awake in a bed full of sorrow.

Mango Tree by Angus & Julia Stone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUpPzVLBEbg

I really love the aesthetic of this music video. It's very simple and sun-stained.

I sang this song with Evan at an open mic for haiti a few months ago.

He played the guitar and sang, and I sang the female harmony, but more than in the original, we sort of switched it up and did an echo thing with the second verse.

I just stood awkwardly at the mic. Nick played the drums real quietly.

It was a pretty cool experience, and they're a really cool Australian band.

Check it out.

Feels like I haven't written poetry in a very long time.

The last poem I remember writing was a Haiku for my Creative Writing class. I got a really awesome chocolate bar for writing that poem.

We were supposed to write a poem about society, or the future.

I spent about two minutes on it, but my teacher liked it.

Where is the hope?

Electronical warfare;

a burning bible.

Allegria.

I went to Cirque a few years ago and got this mask.

I'm watching Up in The Air. It's wonderful.

This is me, as of twenty minutes ago.

Hi internet.

The sunset was beautiful today.

Check it out

I'm a self-professed indie lover, but sometimes rapper's catch my eye. Kid Cudi is awesome,

and this remix is fantastic.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_snoM4VkWAw

I like to use the excuse that my parents didn't take many pictures of me as a child to justify the fact that I take self-portaits every month or so.

Maybe I'm just secretly a huge ego-ist.

Last night I had a dream, one which I seem to be having a lot lately.
I was the protaginist in it, so to speak, but I'm not sure if I was actually me, if that makes sense.
Anyways, there was this man, this really, frightening and wonderful harrowing person, who I can't conjure a mental picture of, and he lived in this room, this cavernous, gigantic, room.
The room was composed of shelves on all the walls, there was no bare space, and the floor and ceiling were some sort of reflective glass.
I was sitting cross-legged in the middle of this room,
and I'm not sure where the man was,
but slowly, all these metal-crafted bugs, made from jewels, sort of like from the andrew bird music video for "Imitosis", they all started crawling towards me, and I was terrified.
The bugs came up to me, and surrounded me and started to crawl into my skin.
That's all I remember, but that somehow, by letting this mans bugs crawl into my skin,
I was gaining the mans favour.

Hunter Golden

I play the piano, mostly Chopin, but I'm learning some Beethoven right now.

Before I forget, because frankly, dear internet, I will,

I would like to reveal that I have embarked upon a path of Russian novels lately,

the one I am currently tackling is "The Brothers Karamazov"

by Dostoyevsky.

One thing that saddens me is that at the age of, well I dunno if I should disclose my age on the internets...

Anyways, I've all ready read so much classic literature and so many novels that it doesn't feel like I have that much left... on the other hand, I am aware of the fact that I am young and know nothing so that when I do re read these "classic novels" when I'm older I will definitely take something very different away from them.

I love reading. I mean, recently I have forayed in the world of movies, but at the end of the day, i still feel like as an aspiring writer, I take something quite different away from a finished novel.

Vanity

This is a photograph I took of myself using a tripod and self-timer yesterday afternoon. Because the self-timer focused on an image I wasn't in, it made for a very blurry and contrast-y result that I really adore.

This is such a note to self it's not even funny

Watch:

A Single Man

Nine

An Education (watched m 8)

A Young Victoria

District 9

Up in the Air (watched m 9)

Hurt Locker

I don't know which one to start with, I think I'll go with An Education.

Another Movie Related Note

As a fan of music in the indie/alternative/classical genre, I always find that movie score's really affect me during a film, and it wasn't until recently that I acted upon that feeling.

I really suggest to people to CHECK OUT THE SCORE'S of their favourite movie's, because it create's  an atmosphere that reallllllllllly blows my mind.

A few notable composers (a few of them nominated tonight, ahem,):

Alexandre Desplat (A painted veil, curious case of benjamin button)

Danny Elfman (A lot of disney/warner bro movies)

John Williams (Memoirs of a Geisha)

Michael Andrews (Donnie Darko)

Oh, the Oscars

So I came down with Strep Throat recently and got to miss quite a bit of school, which was too bad, (falling behind in ap lit is never a good thing), but in the week I was sick I watched inglorious basterds, donnie darko, clockwork orange, No country for old Men, New York I love you, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and whatever Oscar picks I could find on the interweb.
Suffice to say, my mind is full of images and inspiration, and I just finished watching the Oscars.
I am not dissapointed by the awesome flamboyancy of Neil Patrick Harris (How could I be?)
but moreso by the predictability of the Oscars.
Tell me this:
isn't an important element of this prestiguos awards show supposed to be that element of suprise?
That finger-nail chewing, lip-biting, wonder, which makes the viewer feel like their small, insignificant person is involved in this glamourous event?
My mom was suprised because I called almost EVERY SINGLE WINNER.
And no, it wasn't because I know a lot about film, (having a close friend who wants to be a director helps, though) but because I watched Oprah once. She called it, everyone called it.
My God it was a let down to know that the whole womans-rights thing was going to sweep the Oscars.
Yes, I am a woman, good job for you ladies, but is it really neccessary for everyone to get so worked up about it all? I mean, isn't the fact that Jason Reitman made a down to earth cute film important? Or, maybe the fact that James Cameron dominated in the box offices, making more in than the Hurt Locker made in two hours?
Maybe I'm just on a tangent, but still...

Before I leave I would like to point out that I purchase a pair of UV 400 sunglasses which have been the object of much debate in my social life as of late, mainly  because one of my best friends who shall not be named (Evan), keeps laughing every time he see's me in them, remarking how if any pieces of flying metal or shards of glass come in my direction, I'll be the one laughing. I like them.

B&W