California dreamin' ...

So I went to visit my family in California for a week. It was over all a pretty fun time, and I'll just start from the beginning, really.

First of all, can I just say that I adore traveling? I think it's the whole mystique of not knowing anyone else that I like (needless to say, running into a friend totally ruins this mystique... luckily, this time around, I didn't see anyone I knew at the airport). I guess I get it in my head that everyone and his mother sitting on the plane could be a spy, and, considering my dad is still trying to convince me that he's actually a CIA operative (the scary thing is that I don't know if he's actually kidding or not...), I like to think other people think I'm a spy, too! And considering I took twelve years of ballet, am a Drum Major, and like to think I'm a bit graceful on my feet, I'd also like to think I sorta look the part.

HAH! Or not. But it's fun.

So I stayed at my cousin's house. My Aunt and Uncle are quite close to us, considering my mom is only a year apart from my aunt; they are close, therefore we are. Their two children are adopted from Russia, which is always a tear-jerker of a story to tell. It's a bit sad, really... the boy, Wayne, was adopted from a hospital, where the nurses took secret care of him; he was in perfect health. However, the girl, Ashley, wasn't in such good condition, and now suffers from numerous disabilities, namely severe ADD and mild autism. Despite this, she's on meds and fairly normal, though it's sad, because her medication inhibits her from being... excited? Happy? I don't know.

And before you call me glib and start jumping on couch, back off; I believe the meds are helping. And I don't believe in aliens. Kay? :D

Anywho... GAH, too tired to continue. More later.

<3

A bit of self-patting on the back

Okay, so I'm finally back.

Just so you know, this is going to be a longish post. Be warned.

So, two weeks ago, I went to Drum Major camp. YES. Drum Major camp. And as I've seen some dissension in the ranks when I mentioned I was a Drum Major, let me reiterate that I am a cool Drum Major. I'm not too big of a nerd, and my band is pretty tight, with over three hundred people in it. That's, like, one out of every five students at my highschool. So shutty.

Anywho, camp was at Western Oregon University (WOU; or, to spell it phonetically, "WOOOOOOO!"). We stayed in the dorms, la dee da. It was pretty fun, and needless to say, here comes the self-patting on the back portion of this post.

USA, United Spirit Association, is a pretty big deal. They put on these camps, and so to be given awards by them is sort of an honor. Wanna hear what I got? Too bad. I'm gonna tell you.

• A Superior plaque, which means I was of the top Drum Majors at Camp
• A 'Most Distinguished' medal, meaning I was the top marcher at camp.
• A 'Best Leader' medal, meaning, well... you get it.
• I was named one of ten all-stars, and invited to march in the New Year's parade in London.
• I was offered a job to staff next year

Excuse my... bragging? Is that what this is?... I don't know. It's just that I'm never really looked at as the best at much, so being the best at something is lovely. Needless to say Lily, my female Co-Drum Major was very happy for my, while Kyle and Gary, by male C0-Drum Majors were a bit bitter.

Male thing? I dunno.

More coming in another post. I need to go replenish my caffeine supply.

I need your help.

My friend from my Church was in a very bad accident last night. I only found out this morning. He was waiting at a light and a truck hit him from behind. His neck snapped. There's a good chance he will be paralyzed, and he's in surgery right now.

These are the times when religion is hard. This guy, his name's Bryan, is incredibly strong. His childhood was horrendous, he found God, the typical finding faith story. It's different if you live it, I guess... I see God in him, is what I mean. I'm not your typical Saint, though, I won't lie. But this guy makes you want to be a better person. I wonder why God would do this to such a person. Then you think about how God 'has a plan for everything.'

Then why would he let such a decent person fucking suffer so much?

This is why I'm not such a great Christian sometimes.

If you guys are religious, please pray. Pray for him.

Summer is, summer isn't.

Okay. I'll admit I live in a fairly affluent area. There are some very wealthy people where I live (Paul Allen? Bill Gates? Yeah), and as much as I hate to say it, this affluence has seriously spoiled the kids who are subjected to it. I'm not going to lie; I live a very comfortable life. But looking at these kids driving BMVs and Mercedes' around, thinking they're the shit sort of makes me sick (I asked for a car once; my parents laughed and said they'd buy me a trike).

For example, today my friend and I were lucky enough to get together and go water skiing on another friend's boat. Fun, right? We go to the place it's docked, and there are a bunch of people I know, some older, some younger, all under 21, and most carrying beer bottles and cigarettes and those 'special' cigarettes that make life so much fun, as well as other drugs stashed away in pockets or purses.

Before I continue, I'll say that nobody is perfect. We've all experimented here and there, including me, but I've come to the obvious conclusion that underage drinking and doing drugs is incredibly stupid (no thanks to DARE, though; my friend was paralyzed in a car crash with a drunk driver). Granted, I had come to this conclusion earlier when I realized that I wasn't immortal and I needed my life in order to do the amazing things I hope to do in the future.

Am I not cool 'cause I don't drink?

I think being cool constitutes having a working liver and enough brain cells to funtion.

Anyways, back to the story...

These people, all seventeen and eighteen, were all drunk and stoned off their asses. Driving boats and cars. And you know what? Nobody gives a shit. Nobody remembers my friend who was paralyzed or the girl who was killed last year or the dozen or so people who had to go to the hospital because they ODd on a mixture of coke and Ritalin. None of the parents give a crap that their kids are destroying their livers or brain cells. None of the parents care that they're buying their children's love by giving them money to buy coke and pot (believe it or not, I know some parents that actually GIVE their kids the coke and pot...)

Okay. Sweeping generalizations here, I know, but still. It just pisses me off so much to see these kids, supposedly in the prime of their lives, wasting it by getting stoned. They won't even remember it in two years. I know that either after high school or college some of them will come crashing down to reality, but the scary thing is some of them won't have to, and they'll just keep on skating through life on their parents' money, or the money people give them for being attractive and well connected.

And for the people who aren't attractive and well-connected? We'll work our asses off, make a living, maybe get some recognition, and feel fulfilled.

Will they?

Crap. Sorry, I was just a bit cheesed off.

Gotta go do some homework. I'm out.

Here comes the fuzz

Despite priding myself in being a woman of higher class tastes and, well, academia, I'll admit it, 'Hot Fuzz' rocks my socks. Honestly, I don't think I ever had more fun at a movie. At first I was wary of it, because it started out rather slow, but... well, fuck! It got really good, really fast. And now it's coming out on Tuesday. I can't tell you how excited I am. (Is it a little weird that I thought Simon Pegg was a bit attractive when he went all badass on everyone and was shooting up the town? Ah, well. I guess it's the Anglophile in me).

I have to go to Drum Major camp next week. Yes, Drum Major camp. I am, in fact, a Drum Major. Though not the nerdy kind, mind you... I'm the butt-kicking, splits-doing type of Drum major you see in the movie 'Drum Line.' Hell yeah!

Well, okay. Not really.

But my band has over three hundred members, we've marched in the Rose Parade, and have played a half time show for monday night football.

So we basically rock.

Anywho, I'm sort of excited to go, since me and my three other Drum Majors are by far some of the best at camp. I don't know why, but it sort of boosts my confidence a bit.

AHHHH! I still need to get my senior pictures taken slash start on college apps. I'm so not looking forward to that.

I'm out for a bit.

P.S. I know this blog has turned into more like a diary. Can I help it? After all, would you rather here me rant about Bush or my daily life? I don't know. :D

Piles

I hate that moment of self realization. That moment when things just become clear, and you go oh, shit. You know what I mean? That split second when you finally realize...

your house if full of piles.

Piles of clothes, piles of magazines, piles of homework, piles of pills, piles of wrappers, piles of piles!!! I mean, I'm not one for organization... I'm more of a 'spread my shit everywhere and let it ruminate' type of person. And it works, y'know? But this afternoon, I just walked into the kitchen, and was just, like... fuck! I need to clean! But then there's the problem of moving the piles. You see, I've come to know where everything is in accordance to the piles. Once they move, I lose things. Weird, yeah? I lose things when my house is clean, and find them when it's a disaster zone.

Needless to say, I debated with myself for a few minutes, and came to one conclusion:

My mom'll clean it up.

Yes, you heard it. My mom will clean it up. And this, my friends, is a high school senior's revelation. I will allow my mother to clean up after me for one more year, because, hell, after that, I'm on my own! So, just for you, Mom, I'll let you have one more year of taking care of me.

Ain't I generous?

The hair was the best part!

Okay, so 'An Inconvenient Truth' sucked butt. I get it, it was different, it was bold. But for one thing, I already knew most of what he was saying... he just spent about an hour and a half adding big words like 'devastating' and, well, 'inconvenient.' Secondly, I was interested in the facts. Some of the stuff he was talking about was very compelling. But the friggin' graphs moved at lightspeed. I couldn't read them, let alone understand them, so that threw out the scientific basis interest. That aside, Al Gore, I admire your enthusiasm, but... I dunno. I just don't think he's that interesting of a guy to listen to. Not to mention I didn't enjoy the randomly placed items about his personal life. Was this a documentary about his life, and how he knew better then everyone else, or global warming? It seemed the earlier.

Now I have to write like an eight page paper on it. Should be fun.

On another note, I watched 'Madmen', AMCs newest production. Despite some problems with the sound at the beginning of the show, the oddly quick credit rolls at the end, and some strange music and camera choices, I found the acting really good, and the story was far from pointless. I especially liked Peggy, the girl who claimed to be responsible when it came to sex, but when someone actually paid attention to her, she gave it up faster then the other slutty secretaries. It's the typical 'girl wanting to be loved thing.' Not to mention the setting of 1960s Manhattan makes a great backdrop for a story.

And it made me what to smoke. Oddly enough, the advertising industry works. Huh. I'd recommend it, anyways.

And I'm out for now. I need to go turn on the air conditioning.