Well I just got off the phone with Jason.
Hmm. Right? Yeah. It was interesting. He's still at Northwestern, he says it's beautiful there and he misses us all. Just to recap so I don't have to do it individually eleven times, he's been working on the 'Twelfth Night' script, he's in 'Animal Farm' there, he's really busy therefore can't check email, he's sorry he hasn't written anybody but it's merely because he hasn't any stamps and he doesn't know where to buy any. He gets back August 4th, for those of you who were unaware, and he says we should all do something soon after, before school starts.
That's about it, I'll blog something later.

Guys.
So tonight I watched 'The Majestic'. Critics didn't love that one, I heard it was way too long (but only if you think 2 and a half hours is too long) and not that great. I loved it though. Sometimes, predictability is greatness. And I'm really glad that Jim Carrey successfully made the switch from goofy comedies to drama. He's such a great actor, even if a lot of people disagree. Overall it was just a good movie, I thought. Maybe I was just in the right mood while watching it, because I can certainly see what people didn't like that much about it. But I liked it.
So E*Bay's pretty cool, right? A cool internet business, you can auction off your shit. Cool. But what about when you consider that you can't sell souls on E*Bay? Or body parts? No cats. No drugs of any sort. You can't sell rifles. Not ritalin, either. The selling of counterfeit money is strictly prohibited, as is the selling of lottery tickets. No cigarettes or cigars, and definitely not human beings. Nothing exploding, and no driver's licenses. And no happiness--you can't sell happiness. Piece of shit. So what good is E*Bay to me, anyways?
We have a TRICK for ASHLEIGH! I'm so excited! And it doesn't matter that I'm writing this here because she can't read it because she's in New Hampshire, so we can trick and trick and trick all we want and she will be none the wiser. Hehe.
Yeah, I'm pretty much out of things to say. Happens a lot. I'll write tomorrow, maybe. Maybe not. We'll see...

Here's a fun link for those of you like me: Accounting For Taste. Lore is hilarious.
Yeah, sorry about all the music content of my blog lately. You'd think I actually like music. Hah! Couldn't be.
So you want me to talk some more? Because I kind of feel like talking some more, even though I haven't planned out anything to talk ABOUT. Let's see. Grandparents are coming in tomorrow. I plan to be home as little as possible this weekend. But there's a 'Trading Spaces' marathon on over the weekend, as we discovered today while watching an episode, so that might be incentive to stay home, hehe.
Smoothies are the best. I started going to Planet Smoothie a lot lately and getting the Hangover Over smoothie--which I think is strawberries, bananas, yougert (how the hell do you spell that? I'm so confused. Was I right?) and Anti-Stress blast. Last time I went in I arrived at the same time as a busload full of old people--and I mean elderly. So I had to wait in line for awhile so these people could decide what to order and the like. One guy took forever just to figure out that Planet Smoothie sold smoothies, NOT ice cream. He kept trying to order a chocolate cone. Hmm.
So I got recommended for Who's Who. By which teacher, I have no idea. That is who recommends you, right? Teachers? I don't know. Strange. Half my teachers hated me, I think so I don't know who it was.
Sorry about the boringness of this blog. I don't really feel like delving into anything today, plus, I'm bored so this is boring. Also, I was trying to avoid writing about music, and oddly enough, it was difficult. Maybe because I'm just twitching to comment on how well I think 'Math & Other Problems' flows...Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm done now.

Activity for the day (and night): Discovering and rediscovering music of all shapes and sizes.
I'm always up for listening to something I've never heard of before, perhaps merely for the fact that I've never heard of it (am I a pretentious music elitist? Hell yes). And I realized today that I have several cds in my collection, just gathering dust in a box in my basement because I didn't like it when I bought it and never listened to it again. So I went and dug out some of those cds and gave them a good listen, plus I downloaded a bunch of songs by people I'd never listened to before, so I'm going to write about all that.
I can tell you right here that I definitely appreciate the New Radicals first and only cd much more now than I did back in 8th grade when I heard 'You Get What You Give' on the radio and bought the cd. It's called 'Maybe you've been brainwashed too'. The singles, 'You Get What You Give' and 'Someday We'll Know' sound virtually nothing like the rest of the cd. It's kind of...weird. Fun fact: Gregg Alexander was the only member of the band ever. He played with studio musicians. And so when "the band broke up", it was basically Alexander breaking up with himself. Haha...yeah. I hear he decided he liked producing better than performing.
The Papa Vegas cd, 'Hello Vertigo', sounds pretty much like everything else that was released in 1999. The single was 'Bombshell', for those of you who like recognition. 'Bombshell' doesn't sound much like the rest of the cd. Go figure. Anyway, I can't really put my finger on what's wrong with this cd...it's not hard, but it's not NOT hard... it's just...bland.
Nerf Herder is way cooler than I once thought they were. They play the theme from 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer', by the way. The cd has a garage pop punk feel to it. The guys all wear pastel golf shirts in the liner notes, and they have some pretty cool, fun lyrics, my favorite being: "She was the kind of girl who you would give up eating meat for/No more salami/No more steak or potatoes/Yeah you would walk on down to the health food store/And buy hummus and tabouli and babaganoush and ricecakes," from 'Nosering Girl'.
As for downloads, I downloaded some Ben Kweller and Norah Jones, both of whom I've been hearing loads of praise for lately. Both good. Can't really describe them, but the ones I heard were 'In Other Words' and 'Don't Know Why', respectively.
I also finally downloaded a song by Yo La Tengo, since I'd been saying I would for about eleven years. I don't know...I don't think I quite get Yo La Tengo. Sorry.
Sorry also for the boringness of this blog. But ya know, since I can literally say whatever the hell I want, I decided to exercise that right and say something nobody would ever want to read. And now that I've satisfied my craving for forgotten cds and unheard of bands, I'll go reward myself with my prize download of the day, 'Cigarette Lighter Love Song' live at the Tabernacle! Score! Hehe...none of you can understand the glory of finally finding this version of this song. Great.

Asteroid May Hit Earth. Can't they just do what they did in 'Armageddon'? I mean, come on, how hard was that? If Ben Affleck can pull it off and live to tell about it, certainly somebody more trained in space technology could do it. Oh, or hey, we could send Lance Bass! I'm sure he's up for it.






I am terrifyingly evil!

Find your soul type at kelly.moranweb.com.

Well doesn't that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Geez.

Computer Generated Parents
Sometimes I swear my parents are actually Sims. I kid you not. They're satisfied by such tiny things--you feed them and their happiness level goes up. Pick the trash up off the floor and their room score improves. Whenever my mother sits down to play the piano, I actually picture a little light blue bar floating in the air above her head, the blue rising as she plays more. And with their relationships, it's true too. Whenever I see my parents kissing I picture Sims kissing. And Sims don't have sex, and I'd like to imagine that my parents don't, either. Another thing is, usually when they talk to me, all I hear is that gibberish the Sims speak. Which can be nice, except when I'm asked to repeat what they say. Overall, I just think my parents would be better suited for a computer game than Real Life.
Lakewood Purist
I'm a Lakewood purist. I will never, ever call it Hi Fi Buys Amphitheater. Not just because I always knew it as Lakewood and I have trouble with change or something. Mainly because of that stupid name on it--the corporate logo emblazoned on the place. I mean, granted, when it was Lakewood, its full name was Coca-Cola Lakewood Amphitheater. But there are a few things that make THAT a million times better than Hi Fi Buys Amphitheater. Number one, it's Coca-Cola. I like Coke. I don't like Hi Fi Buys and whatever they sell. Number two, Coke used to own practically everything in Atlanta. We're used to it; it's almost comforting. Of course, now that Pepsi's come in and bought out our school and half the restaurants around here, well, I just don't know what to think. And number three, nobody called it Coca-Cola Lakewood Amphitheater! Everyone was content to just say 'Lakewood'. However there's no alteration you can make to a name like 'Hi Fi Buys Amphitheater'. You could call it 'Buys Amphitheater', but that would just be weird. In my opinion, if it had to be changed, why couldn't they just call it Hi Fi Buys Lakewood Amphitheater, so we could keep calling it what we want to?
Moving On--To More Boring Books
I finished The Things They Carried last night. Huh. There's two months I'll never get back. Yeah, it took me forever to finish. I curse that book, repeatedly. As good as it was, annotating it was a hell I'd never again like to go through. But I've still got two books left to annotate--The Stranger and The Picture Of Dorian Gray. THEN I have to read The Future Of Life for AP Environmental Science. And then the lovely Pere Goriot. Haha...yeah right. If I read that one at all, it'll be after school's started. We'll see.
Well, Ayrun's probably going to complain about the length of this blog (are my blogs really too long?) so I'll cut it off here. If I get bored again, I'll write again. So be ready.

which left of self centered song are you?

Damn, I'm fond of quizzes. And hey--might as well rename this blog The All Butch Walker, All The Time Report. Sorry about that, kids.

take the which one of the trading spaces cast are you? quiz!

When I get bored, I get productive.
Want to go see the rough skeleton of a shitty web page? Are you interested in Milton Drama Club at all? Either way, I made it, you should go look at it. So go. Now.
The Empire Theatre Company

Aren't these things so cute? The girl's supposed to be me...didn't quite work out that way, but hey. What can you do.

So AP scores came (finally!) today. 4 in History. Yay! I can't even pretend that I hoped for a 5, so I'm just glad I didn't get a 1 or something! And seeing as I'm not quite so...advanced...in the field of science as some of you, I didn't take AP Physics, so I have no additional score to report. But a 4. I'm happy with that. Maybe I'll get into college after all.

Hey guys, I know it's a little premature, but I just found out that the 99X Celebrity Softball game is December 11th of this year. Let's all go! It's probably at the Dome. Butch'll probably play, if I'm lucky. I missed it last year, so...okay, we'll go. Yes? I'll blog more later. Got to go.

So I watched 'Orange County' tonight, as per many recommendations . Good movie. Good, not great, but good. I definitely think there should be some Senior Assembly where we're all forced to watch it, just to take some of the pressure of where to go to college off. Yeah, I'm sure the Tinsleys'll get right on that (she says sarcastically).
Oh yeah, and Drew, I hate Dr. Awbrey so much. He's just awful. So I stopped going. Heh. See how he likes it now. Maybe now he'll think twice about prescribing me so many retainers and bouts of oral surgery.
Okay now to what I came to blog about tonight. It's a discussion/argument (tomayto, tomahto) I had with a few people on a messageboard online the other night about musicians. Basically the gist of it is this: I maintain that a musician should be in the music business purely for his or her love of music, while the other side argued that what does it matter what the musician is in the business for, as long as they make good music? And this stumped me a little.
I think that we were arguing from different sides, basically. I think the people who were arguing the other point were speaking from the fan's point of view--we don't care about the why, just the what. As long as there was good entertaining music for them to listen to, they didn't care if a certain artist was only in it for the money, or the fame. While I was arguing from the...well...I don't know what point of view I was arguing. I can't say the musician's point of view, because not all musicians would feel that way. Maybe just from the true music lover's point of view (although I'm by no means a "true music lover"). Either way, I was saying that a musician should love what they do, just as anyone should love what they do--or don't do it.
I say these things because I feel there are so many bands and artists who go and play whatever's popular at the moment, whatever shit will sell, just to make a quick buck and have their fifteen minutes. And then there are bands out there who live to play music, who recognize that "this music is the glue of the world. It's what holds it all together. Without this, life would be meaningless." And so many of those bands are struggling to sell more than a hundred cds out of the bassist's Volvo, and that's not fair. And I just feel that if more musicians played because they loved to play, and less people played that DIDN'T love to play, the really talented and really hardworking artists who just can't get a break might have more of a chance. But I also think that a musicians love for what they do shows through in their work. You can tell somebody who lives for the music, and works every song to perfection and loves the fans and doesn't feel certain things beneath them, from somebody who just cranks out two cds and a Christmas album a year, regardless of the quality of the music.
But then the other side could argue that if the fans think the music is good, and loving what you do makes your music good, then these certain 'questionable' artists must really love what they do. So I don't know. I've always thought that you shouldn't do anything like that for the money or the fame--I hate it when people say they want to act so they can be 'famous', etc. But then you really have to wonder--if the music sounds good, what does it matter what brought that music here? Does it matter? I don't know.
Sorry about my confused ramblings. I don't quite understand myself, so how could I expect anyone else to? Well, anyway, if you have any sort of opinion on this topic, feel free to tell me or to blog about it. Even if you feel like it doesn't matter at all and isn't worth the bandwidth it's taking up. Either way. Thanks for listening.

what butch walker hair do are you?

You know, guys, Atlanta isn't really all that bad.
Yeah I know, we're constantly going on and on about how much we hate it here, and how much we can't wait to get out. Myself included. But we should sometimes stop and think about it, really. Because, first of all, how much stuff is there to do in the Atlanta area that we've just never taken advantage of? I mean, sure, Alpharetta is pretty much devoid of fun, save North Point and AMC. But just because we live in Alpharetta doesn't mean we're limited to Alpharetta.
My point is, when you get right down to it, Atlanta is a fairly good city. Not all parts of it, no. And I never, ever thought I'd find myself defending Atlanta, but maybe Butch Walker's gotten to me, because I'm suddenly feeling rather possessive of my semi-hometown.
Okay, so. It's not New York City. It's not LA, it's not Chicago, it's not DC. There's not as much to do here, it's not as attractive a city as any of those can be. But alright, what all is there to do?
We have a major league baseball franchise here. Albeit I hate the Braves, but still, how many cities can boast that? 30, if memory serves. Well, 30-ish, anyway.
If you look at the tour itinerary for most of the major concert tours, Atlanta is listed as at least one stop on it. There are some really amazing concert venues in the area, both large arenas and intimate clubs, and some really amazing bands play them.
Speaking of music, I just have to extol the virtues of the Atlanta local music scene. I mean, we have some amazing stuff coming out of our city. The Atlantis Music Conference is the last weekend in July--if you are interested in seeing some great unsigned talent, local and otherwise, GO TO IT!
Alright, enough with music. Stuff we never do--we have a nationally rated zoo.
Maybe animals aren't your cup of tea. We have Six Flags! We take Six Flags for granted by hardly ever going to it (because, I know, it's a drain on your money and the lines are huge and the list goes on and on...), but it's better to live where you have a Six Flags than to live someplace without a Six Flags...isn't it?
Alright then. Not to play to the girls only here, but there's some really good shopping in Atlanta. Virginia Highlands is nice. Although I've never visited Little Five Points (I'm thinking of going next week), I've heard that's great for vintage and stuff. Plus, there is a benefit to having eighty-five malls within driving distance.
Okay, what else? True, we don't get the artiest movies here in Alpharetta, but there are theaters in the area that show practically every movie that comes out. We don't live in some town where there's a 2-screen theater that's still playing 'Lord Of The Rings' on one screen and 'Titanic' on the other. So we’re lucky in that respect.
And something regional--we're lucky enough to live someplace in the South that's not really the South. When was the last time you heard a true southern drawl? They say Atlanta is a melting pot, and I get sick of hearing that, but at least if we have to live south of the Mason Dixon line, we're not out in the sticks somewhere.
It's really not all that bad here.

So all I did today was drive.
It wasn't all that bad. I had to drive Erin and Stacey all over the southeastern United States for...undisclosed reasons (undisclosed by me, for fear that somehow, one of their parents would get a hold of this blog). I think I was in five different counties today. Well so we drove...and drove...and drove...and went in SuperTarget...and drove...and I got to see both SA and AJRA crew boathouses, which was interesting. Well, slightly interesting. And then I got on 400. Did you know that Friday night rush hour 400 traffic is NOT fun? Because, silly me, I was expecting to have a blast. But alas, I did not. It was not too much fun, so I got off at the next exit, walked around North Point for fifteen minutes, decided I needed a strawberry-banana smoothie, so I went to Planet Smoothie. My mom thinks I was at Erin's house all day. Hehe...little does she know. Then I went home, only to discover that some 'old friends' are coming over and I'm required to go out to dinner with them and my parents. FUN! So that's what I'm about to go do, but I figured I'd blog first.
The long long long drive did give me a bit of a chance to aquaint myself with the new Butch Walker cd, however. I have to admit, it is growing on me. I was so afraid that it wouldn't; I was afraid that I would never love it. And so I still don't LOVE it, but I definitely like it a lot more now. And even my two least favorite songs on it, 'Into The Black' and 'Get Down' are growing on me. My favorite part of 'Get Down' (the song I nearly despise) is when he's like "I heard you were from Cartersville! God, don't say THAT too loud!" I have a fit! I blare it just at that part and I'm dancing in my car and grinning, and then I skip the rest of the song because I don't like it too much. But that part, that part is awesome.
Oh, and I finally got to meet some of Erin's hot guys. I have to say, they're not as hot as I was told. Not nearly as hot. But, here's hoping Erin and Stacey not only don't get caught, but that Erin will win the bet this weekend.

Two new hot guys today.
One is a waiter at Fridays, and he's not the same one that we wrote that little note to before Ashleigh left; this one's name is Bryan. I know that because he wrote it on our napkin with a little smiley face. So we've got two good reasons to go back to Fridays: Bryan and the other guy.
The second hot guy works in the movies section of Media Play and I think he said his name was Ryan, but I could be just getting him mixed up with Bryan. But I know Media Play guy told me his name. He reminded me a little of the David Arquette look, only cuter. Unfortunately, I find myself in the position of having to boycott Media Play (at least for a little while) because they don't have the Butch cd even this long after its release.
Also, I couldn't exactly do much flirting or talking with these guys, as I was with my mother. But next time...next time.
Well I have to go pick up my dad at Marta; he just flew in from God knows where. G'bye.

Butch Walker has some quality that can just make you forget everything that's going bad and just rock or something.
Seriously, I was mad this morning because I woke up too late to be at Best Buy the second it opened to buy 'Left Of Self Centered', and because I can't go to the record release party tonight at Wherehouse Music downtown, and because my parents are annoying and just everything in general. So I drive down to Best Buy much later than I'd planned, wearing my 'Property Of Butch Walker' shirt in honor of The Man. I thought people might think it strange that I was wearing the shirt of the guy whose record I was buying, but instead I felt like I got a few looks from the Best Buy employees saying "You must be way cool to buy such a cool cd, and to wear such a cool shirt. Proceed." But maybe I'm crazy anyways. So I pick up my copy of 'LoSC' (which was NOT on display--I was disappointed. They'll display J-Lo but not Butch?) and then grab a 'The Royal Tennenbaums' dvd, which also came out today, make my purchases and leave. Then in the car on the way home I'm just blaring Butch and singing along to what little I know and not caring that people are staring at the crazy girl rocking out in her car, and everything's okay.
The cd is good. Good not great. Of course I say that, I always say that. Guess what--I didn't like 'RSG' when I bought it, and I don't recall liking very much off 'Hey!Album' either, and I distinctly remember me and Jason discussing how we didn't really like 'Math' the day I bought it, too. So just let it grow on me.
You guys might like the lyrics to 'Suburbia', all things considering. Aw, reminds me of home.

See Butch. See Butch rock. Rock, Butch, rock!

So of course, last night was the infamous and almighty Butch Walker concert, Downtown Rocks at Baker Street Park. What was originally intended as a huge group outing became a three person event, until Pennington went AWOL and left it as just me and Sarah T. Which was cool. So we take Marta, battling the Braves fans all the way down, and walk the several blocks to the vacant lot they're calling a park, following the sound of the music of the Riddlin' Kids. Upon arrival, we look around for people we know, finding none. The lot is littered with concert-goers, some we've seen before, some we have not. The sides of it are lined with various booths, Midtown style. There aren't many options but Mellow Mushroom had a booth, and Minute Maid's frozen lemonades were a crowd-pleaser. There were the obligatory merch booths, of course, from which I bought both a Butch armband and a 'Property Of Butch Walker' black t-shirt. Way cool.
So we decide not to get anything to eat or drink, and just to watch the music. After the Riddlin' Kids leave the stage (and they were actually pretty good), Toucher over at the 99X radio booth announces that Butch himself will be appearing momentarily to do a little pre-show interview. This, of course, got us all very excited. Sarah and I made our way over to the booth and stood in front of it, with me wishing like hell that I'd brought my camera as Butch answered questions and threw rawk hands at the crowd continuously. It was a nice little gathering, as we were quite close to the booth and not a whole lot of people were around.
Soon after, we decided that if we wanted to be up front for Butch's set, we'd have to be up front for Left Front Tire as well. Now don't get me wrong--Left Front Tire rocks. But they just didn't possess the energy necessary to keep a crowd entertained. But their music was great and I'd definitely recommend to everyone that you go out and buy their new album, '42 Ways To Lose A Friend', when it comes out at the end of summer. So during Left Front Tire, Sarah and I made a few drunken friends, who were good for a few laughs. One highlight was when the 27 year old who didn't tell me his name, although I told him mine, noted my Butch Walker shirt and Butch Walker armband and said, "I have to ask you this--are you wearing Butch Walker panties?" (because, by the way, they do sell them). I laughed and said no, and he responded with, "well I was just wondering, because I am!" It was very amusing. However drunk they were, the guys were nice enough, and it was cool to meet some new people, even if we'll never see them again.
So Left Front Tire left the stage and we waited...and waited...and waited...for Butch to come on. He was scheduled to come on at 9:45, and although the stage looked set up long before then, he didn't come on early at all. So at 9:45, the rest of the band (JJ on guitar, K-Dog on drums, and Monkey Boy on bass) and played a long intro. Everybody knew that the crowd was just eager for Butch. So finally the man himself comes onstage, trademark red-white-and-blue guitar in tow, and launches into 'My Way'. It surprised me that he played that first--in my experience, he usually reserves the "hits" for the end of the show. So anyway, the set list went a little like this:
'My Way'
me freaking out
'Sugarbuzz'
me freaking out
'Suburbia'
'Alicia Amnesia'
'Sober'
'Into The Black' (both of those, sadly, I didn't know the words to. I feel so dirty.)
'Diary Of A San Fernando Sexx Star' (two x's are there for a reason)
part of 'Let Me Go' (me freaking out)
part of 'Cigarette Lighter Love Song' (me freaking out and preparing to start crying at the bridge, which he never got to)
part of 'Under Pressure'
part of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' (involving MUCH audience participation, if ya know what I mean)
me freaking out even more than before
'Every Monday'
'Freak Of The Week' (me almost fainting in the middle of the crowd.)
Okay, to fill in the gaps a little bit, the 'me freaking out' was all probably for older songs, except 'Suburbia' because I knew all the words and the crowd didn't. It was nice. The 'me almost fainting' was very true--I kinda forgot to eat or drink anything all day, and I should've guessed something was wrong when I was exhausted by the end of rockin out to 'My Way', but I really couldn't have cared less about my health at the time, so 75% through 'Freak' I felt really horrible, almost collapsed, and made Sarah leave with me. Of course, this all happened right as Butch had climbed down from the set (yeah, he'd climbed up it earlier in the song...) and jumped into the audience to continue playing. What I would have given to be in the center right then...(we were closer to his right side). But, bygones, right? So that was the gist of the show. Of course nothing could compare to being there, and don't you people even think for one second that I'm going to let you off the hook for accompanying me to another Butch show. Nobody should go through life without seeing Butch--that was my number five and it'll never be enough.
So now my elbows and forearms ache like mad. If you don't know why, then you've obviously never been to a Butch show. Wow.
Oh, I almost forgot, there were flames. And sparks. And he shot up some small fireworks. The man really does know how to put on an extravagant show, doesn't he? Oh yeah and he can really work a crowd, too.
One more note: 'Left Of Self Centered', the latest album by Mr. Butch Walker himself comes out in stores this coming Tuesday, July 9th, and I swear to you I'm going to come to each and every one of your houses to make sure you own a copy by Friday. So be prepared for that.

I went to buy 'Men In Black' tickets today, and on the way home, I was listening to Incubus and I just didn't feel like going home, I had the truck and a full tank of gas and although I was by myself and couldn't think of anybody to go get to come with me, I just felt like driving someplace. So, I did the most logical thing--drove over to Old Milton and got on 400. I'd never driven on 400 by myself before, but I'm not afraid of it like some people are. It was actually slightly enjoyable. It was like a slight tinge of reckless abandonment--getting on the highway and driving to God-knows-where after telling my mother I'd come straight home from the movie theater. It was an awakened sense of adventure, a sense of spontaneity.
But it didn't last long, because once I reached the Holcomb Bridge exit, I wasn't sure if there were any exits further up that I could get off at and still find my way home. I know, I could have gotten off at a far-away exit and then just gotten back on 400 going the other direction, but there was traffic and I didn't feel like sitting in it. So, being the overly cautious person that I am, I got off at Holcomb Bridge and drove home.
So it was a feeling that didn't last. But it was a feeling, one that inspired in me ideas of getting up early in the morning, driving to another state somewhere, and coming home before curfew, because we can. Why don't we ever do anything like that? Are we really the most boring kids alive? Is that what suburban life does to you? Is our idea of suburban abandonment driving home through Park Whatthefuck with a low gas tank and one person too many in the SUV?
I was happy in the car, got home and argued with my mom, became unhappy, and encouraged the feeling by putting 'Konstantine' on repeat in my room while feeling a distinct urge to destory something. So I ripped some more pages out of the stolen 9th grade Lit book. It was theraputic.
I find myself suddenly wishing that I had the ability to break rules. Because, ya know, I don't. Oh, sure, my parents come downstairs and tell me to go to bed at 2 am and I don't go until 4. Real rebellious, I am. Not that I really want to rebel. It's just...well, I know the consequences of my actions, and that sucks. Because if I didn't know the consequences, I would have no trouble doing things that break certain rules. I kind of hate being the Good Teen.
Well I'm going to see 'MIB II' tonight, I'm sure it will be enjoyable. Put me in a better mood, so I won't have to deface the Lit book any more than I already have.

"But I can't help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run
And it wears me out
If I could be who you wanted all the time..."
--Radiohead

Well, I've gone and gotten myself in A Mood.
You know, when you just listen to sad songs, and read sad things, and think sad thoughts... And I can't stop; I don't want to stop. If anyone knows of any cure for this type of Mood, a remedy of sorts, tell me.
I believe the novelty of blogging has just about worn off. When I find myself considering writing a blog almost a hassle and less of an enjoyable experience, that's when I know. I think, though, that after everybody who blogs gets home and we all start writing very interesting blogs every day, like we used to, things will get back to normal again.

"Talking about love is like dancing about architecture."

I want to blog before I forget to tonight. About a few small and unimportant daily ramblings, of course.
Why did CosmoGirl discontinue their inclusion of hot boy stickers in their magazine? I buy that magazine purely for the hot boy stickers! I stick them everywhere! And now they have the gall to remove them? Granted, they haven't included them in quite a many months, but I haven't blogged about it until now. And I find it highly irksome. Dammit.
So I was looking at a Stephen King book again. I wish I could love Stephen King. I went into the whole experience wanting to love Stephen King. But I come out of it all, and who do I love? Not Stephen King. His books bore me, his short stories are a pain to get through. I went into it wanting to be scared; I love to be scared. But as nothing that I've ever read by King has scared me, I think, three books and two short story collections later, it's time to give up on him. I have to accept that I'll never be a Stephen King fan.
While we're on the literary track, what's with people who keep saying they identify with Holden Caulfield? It makes me want to cry, or puke, alternatingly. If you ever catch me saying that I identify with Holden Caulfield, please, I beg of you, a quick bullet to my head. I think, that if there was a big universal counter that kept track of every single sentence anybody on Earth said, at the end of it all, the phrase used most often (maybe after "Fuck you"), would be the phrase "I identify with Holden Caulfield."
Sorry this wasn't funny, Erin. I'll try harder tomorrow.

Quote of the day: "I assure you, your dad did not invent Target."

I sometimes wish that life had a soundtrack.
Like, I was sitting in Friday's with Sarah today and Pete Yorn's 'Strange Condition' was on the in-restaurant stereo thing, and it was almost loud enough to feel like it was playing for a reason, you know, like in movies when people are doing something and there's a song playing softly above the action that fits the situation. I'm not saying that 'Strange Condition' fits any sort of situation, that's not what I'm trying to say. I don't know what I'm trying to say. I just wish that there was carefully chosen music over everything I do.
I wish as well that I could say that my mantra in life, my motto or something, was 'no regrets'. You know all those cool, collected people who can say "I don't have any regrets" and mean it? Yeah, I wish I was one of those people. They justify it by saying that everything you do contributes somehow to who you are and where you end up, so you can't have regrets. And although that makes so much sense to me, and although I almost completely agree, I still don't feel right saying I have no regrets. Because I regret things; I regret lots. I wrote an entire blog, a long time ago, about all the things I regret from this past year alone. But I wish I had no regrets, and I wonder if there's a way to go from having regrets to not having regrets. As in, if I regret some things now, could something change along the line so that later in life I can say that I have no regrets? Or does it merely involve my changing my outlook, i.e. truly believing the justification that says that everything happens for a reason? I guess it doesn't really matter, and these are all completely rhetorical questions. I'm not looking for answers.