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.

Advertising makes me sick.

I just did four straight hours of homework. In the gosh darn summer. Analyzing advertisements in Newsweek and Teen Vogue.

And then I had to write three situational dialogs about refusing pot.

That was especially funny to do. You know...

Friend 1: Want some pot?

Friend 2: *le gasp* NOOOO! YOU'RE THE DEVIL! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!

Or, well, something like that. Anyways, I need to go check out 'Inconvenient Truth' from the library and do a report on it.

Let's hope I won't be too distracted by Gore's hair; I really need to focus on the movie.

Irish Love

Okay. Third post tonight. Why? For one, Anderson Cooper had on some reporter who could put a load of librarians asleep, though the fly that kept landing on his face was really amusing. Second, I'm way to tired to tackle the 35 hours of work I need to do in the next several days. And third... I have an unexplainable urge to write about my recently found love.

I know it's somewhat typical to be obsessed with "Boondock Saints." It's sort of a cult classic amongst high school and college students, and rightly so. But aside from feeling obliged to love it because of my age group... well, I really do love it. I think I might have watched it three times in the past five days, and I laugh every time. Honestly, not since the Lord of the Rings epidemic a few years back have I ever been so adamant about my like for a movie. The acting isn't even that great... I don't know why I like it.

I've also begun to write a screen play. I have the entire story in my head; it's getting it out on paper that's the bitch part. It's very Stephen King-esque. I'm quite proud of it. Currently, I am debating whether or not to post the first three pages here... hmm.

Save me from my ramblings. It's 11:30, Family Guy is on, and bed is nowhere in site.

Oh, God.

WTF???

WHAT???!!!




Who gives Bill O'Crap your pants the right to decide who blogs what? Can this get any funnier? I feel sorry for the guy.

Hm.

I have to do 35 hours of homework in the next seven days. That's roughly... five hours a day?

FUCK. I will be so excited when high school is over. I don't even care about this stuff anymore. I'm severely self motivated, but this... this is just kind of shit. I can't even bring myself to write much since I'm still sick. I feel nauseous still...

Morning sickness?

Well, yeah, except morning sickness involves actually getting some.

Hahahaha.

Gah.

Okay, this post isn't a rant or anything. This is merely me saying that my summer is BUSSSSSY. I'm SOOOO behind on my eighty hours of health class homework, and I have no clue what I'm going to do.

I've also developed a bad case of swearing. Not too attractive in Seattle. Maybe I need to move to South Boston.

I'm watching the YouTube debates right now. Should be interesting.

AHHHHHHHHHH! I'm so flustered right now. Can you believe that, despite the fact that I was carsick to the point of hurling, I didn't want the ride home from my trip to the beach to end? It was five hours of day dreaming. I've never felt so calm. I felt like I knew where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do in life.

AND IT DIDN'T INCLUDE HIGH SCHOOL.

I've also found a relationship with God. Strange? Sort of. But it was soothing. I dunno.

I'm out.

Woah.

Can I just say that I love CNN? Like, actually. Here's why; first, Anderson Cooper bashes Paris Hilton on air, which I talked about last night, (Cooper on how Paris Hilton seemingly had a life changing experience in jail: "It seems odd for her to just... get smart."), and then, him and another reporter had this witty repartee on air.

_____

Erica: And let's lighten it up here. Already lining up around the country at stores. Not Harry Potter. That's not for a few more weeks. We're talking, of course, about Apple's new iPhone. It goes on sale tomorrow. It is hyped, of course, as the next big thing.

A whole lot of gadget heads seem to be buying into that hype. So much so, we are hearing pretty crazy stories, including one guy in Seattle who reportedly sold his car to pay for one. For an iPhone. Plus, a moped for him, to get around.

COOPER: Woo, iPhone! [Raises hands in 'rock on' symbol]

HILL: Yes. [Does the same]

COOPER: Rock on, iPhone!

HILL: Yes. You have a new little tool there.

COOPER: I got a new BlackBerry, actually.

HILL: Got a little camera on it.

COOPER: It's got a little camera. I'm going to take a picture and send it to you.

HILL: OK. But it's not an iPhone, Anderson. So I mean, it may be cool and all, but not really...

COOPER: [Indignant] Well, it's got a color screen.

HILL: Not going to be in with the in crowd.

COOPER: Yes. No, I know. It's totally not in.

HILL: That's all right. I don't get it either.

COOPER: The iPhones are cool. But again, I'm worried that as soon as -- you know, that in a month from now, there's going to be, like, the little mini iPhone. So I'm going to be there with the obsolete, big, old-fashioned iPhone.

HILL: There very well could be. And you don't want to be, you know, walking around with the brick of the iPhone world.

COOPER: I want to be on the cutting edge. I don't want to be, you know...

HILL: Cutting edge? You're so on the cutting edge. You don't need to follow the hype to get the iPhone. You create your own edge.

COOPER: Yes, you're right, Erica Hill. Thanks.

HILL: OK.

COOPER: Now for our "Shot of the Day". It is pretty crazy. Check this out.

A 72-year-old former Marine, fighting off a pick-pocket. That's him right there. Bill Barnes says he was scratching off a losing 2- dollar lottery ticket when he felt a hand slip in front -- into his front left pants pocket. He'd just put $300 from an ATM in there.

Barnes went into action, pulling the guy's wrist with one hand, pummeling him with the other hand.

HILL: No messing with (ph) him.

COOPER: Yes. The store manager -- yes, I know -- then intervened, and the suspect was treated for bloody nose and cuts, charged with unarmed robbery.

We should also mention, not only is Barnes a former Marine, he was a runner-up in a Golden Gloves competition before enlisting in the corps in 1956.

HILL: Hey, hey. How about that?

COOPER: So don't mess -- don't mess with Mr. Barnes.

HILL: That's right. Once a Golden Gloves runner-up, always a Golden Gloves runner-up.

COOPER: That's right.

HILL: I didn't get your e-mail, by the way.

COOPER: Oh, well, yes.

HILL: Maybe I'll get it tomorrow.

COOPER: I have to figure that one out.

______

For some reason, CNN's news reports are more amusing then the majority of sitcoms on television nowadays.

I guess the next question to ask is why I'm such a nerd...

Can you die of laughter?

Anderson Cooper, on how Paris Hilton seemingly had a life changing experience in jail: "It seems odd for her to just... get smart."


*dies*

Hah!

67% of Americans oppose the war in Iraq

54% of Americans say it's not morally justified.

32% is what? Say it again? Bushes approval rating? No? Oh, wait. Yes. Yes, it is. Only a few other presidents, including the infamous Richard Nixon, saw lower ratings.




Gee, what a time it is when we can gain valuable knowledge from a six year old and his stuffed tiger.

Hah. Stay the course. That always gets me.

??

How far can we go before out hearts give way? I think that should be the motto for some of the presidential candidates. Honestly, if I was a member of Bush's presidency, I'd feel massive amounts of guilt every time I turned on the T.V. to see families crying over loved ones going to war. I'm not saying some don't feel bad... they likely do... but you know that there are some, if not many rich, pretentious a-holes just wallowing in their title and "ass"ets and not caring about the state of the entire goddamned world.

Huh.

Just Rambling

After a discussion on one of my classes, I was required to write an assessment. Here are the somewhat naive, yet thoroughly heartfelt ramblings of a teenager.

"

After the discussion in class, if anything, I feel like my opinions have been further solidified. To start with, I am strongly against splitting up Iraq into three separate states (one state for each the Kurds, the Sunnis, and the Shiites). These three factions have been warring against each other for over one thousand years… why would it be any different now? If anything, the separation into states would only cause a power struggle for democratic power. Not to mention, right next door to Iraq is Iran, a dominantly Shiite nation, who would likely be more then willing to aid the Shiite state of Iraq if a civil war broke out, which could likely happen. I am also against the US’s continuing occupation in Iraq. As many stated in the discussion, America caused this chaos in Iraq, so we should fix it, whatever ‘chaos’ and ‘it’ is. However, the US’s continuing occupation in Iraq is what is causing this chaos to persist… it is a catch22. I strongly believe that the US needs to create a time table and slowly pull out of Iraq. Because this ‘chaos’ is existing, it’s hard to see which chaos we, as the US is creating, and what chaos is being created by the Iraqi insurgents. If we pull out of Iraq, we would take out the variable of the US’s presence, and be able to clearly see what ‘chaos’ is still existing in Iraq. Then, our government will be able to see what still needs to be done, or if anything needs to be done at all, and we can proceed from there. As of right now, it seems like we’re just fighting for fighting’s sake… and nothing good can come from out. The fighting has flat-lined, in a sense. Our soldiers, our sons and daughters and friends are not renewable resources. They’re going to Iraq, and dying, and for some, they don’t know why.

This all aside, I’m merely a seventeen year old high school student. I don’t have a degree in politics, or foreign policy. However, I do have morals and values. And I truly do believe that when it comes to foreign policy, the people in charge are becoming seriously desensitized to everything. We’ve become jaded by war and fighting and always being in conflict… I think we need to focus on how things can become better, not what is already wrong in the world. Perhaps we need to focus on international cooperation, or humanitarianism. But, as stated before, the leaders of our country are more qualified then I am to make decisions regarding foreign policy, and one must trust our leaders to do their job.

But how far can trust go?"

Special

I can read minds.

No, actually. I can. Just put me in a room with my twin brother, Andrew, and we can do amazing things. You think I’m lying? Once he said, “Hey, Sammy, you know that thing in the place that we had at that one time? Where is it?” And I knew what he was talking about. People often wonder if we’re just kidding. But it’s true. We’re special. Our mom told us so.

If we can read each other’s minds, you’d think we would have a lot in common. And we do, though not in the traditional sense. I like to act and play music. He likes science and computers. I listen to Coldplay. He listens to Mozart. I read Grisham, King, and Crichton. He reads ‘Dilbert.’ Despite these somewhat superficial differences, however, my brother and I relate with each other on a much deeper, much more intellectual level. For example, be both boast a rather disturbing knowledge on all things Star Trek (thanks, mom). We laugh at jokes that others don’t. Consequently, we also share the same birth date- shocker, I know. We also share a love for finding amusement in the everyday mundane.

For instance, one Saturday night, I was sitting on the couch, getting my weekly dose of Saturday Night Live. Andrew was there, too, and it was obvious by his fidgeting and occasional barrage of napkins-turned-projectiles that he was bored. I, like a good sibling, ignored him.

“Sam, I have an idea.”

“Shhhh…”

“No, like, a great idea.”

Thanking the lords for TiVo, I paused my show and turned to him. “What?”

“I made up a game.” Not needing a response, and before I could interject, he continued. “So, one of us picks a letter, and then in like, a minute, you write down all of the things you can think of that starts with that letter. Whoever has the most wins.”

I laughed: “That’s stupid.” He shrugged. I turned back to the T.V. After a short pause, I sighed, and threw the remote at Andrew. He yelled and ducked. “Find some paper.” I said, “It was a rerun anyways.”

After a couple of minutes, he was set at the kitchen table, and I was on the floor. “Ready?” he asked.

“No. What letter are we doing?”

“Uh, T.”

“Okay.”

“Go!”

Fierce scribbling ensued. Being academically inclined, I wrote, Tome. Turnip. Telepathy. Transcendental. After about thirty seconds had passed, I yelled, “Stop!”

“Okay,” Andrew said, lowering his pen. “Read yours off, and if we have the same word, cross it out.”

“Okay… tome.”

“What?!”

After a minute, it was obvious that he had none of my words. Then it was his turn.

“To.”

“Er, no…” I said, cursing my over-analytical self.

“Too.”

“You just said that.”

“No, like, T-O-O.”

“That’s not fair!”

“It’s a different word.”

“Fine. Next?”

“Two.”

“Andrew!”

“What?”

“Just- keep going.”

“Three.”

“Okay.”

“Thirteen.”

I didn’t say anything; I knew what was coming. After all, I could read his mind.

“Thirty. Three-hundred. Three-thousand. Three-million…”

Now it was my turn to throw napkins.

Needless to say, we woke our parents up with our fighting and laughing that night. Truly, I believe it takes a special sort of person to find something so ordinary amusing… and I believe that my brother and I are the epitome of special. After all, we are telepathic.

And that makes you pretty darn special, I think.

So does trying to make your mark on the world through an online blog.

Oy vey.