Journalistic Integrity

Kids, turn to page 19 in your August 19th issue of Rolling Stone. If you can tear your eyes away, move on to page 71. Understand and enjoy.

In Theory

I don't have anything of relevance to say, exactly...it's just that my last post was kind of depressing, and I don't want it to be the first thing you see when you visit my blog, you know. I was just in that partly PMS-induced state of really, really, not wanting to be anywhere that I was supposed to be. And now that I'm back where I'm supposed to be (and I mean that in the we're-paying-good-money-for-me-to-take-classes-and-so-I'd-better-be-in-Athens-to-take-them and not the meant-to-be sense), it's dissapated, at least to tolerable levels.
So here I am. I've been watching a lot of Sex & The City (bought Season Six, Part One DVDs this weekend) and listening to a lot of pop music and John Mayer (don't be silly, Amy, they're the same thing) today, in addition to all the Ethics work I've allows to pile up. And in addition to the two trips to the grocery store because I forgot to get everything I needed the first time. That was cute of me. But escaping from the dorm was nice even if it did waste more gas than entirely necessary, so I wasn't too broken up about it.
And as long as I can get through Wednesday classes (the dreaded Ethics presentation for which I am now and forever will be horridly unprepared), I'll be just fine. In theory, really.

Unmotivation

I'm currently going through a bout of an enormous lack of confidence in anything I write (my Cannibal play is quite possibly the worst piece of drivel I've ever put down in writing and I wish that no one would ever have to be subject to it, but instead it has to be performed in my Playwriting class), severe annoyance with a few certain people who I'm sure have no idea that I'm not happy with them, nor any idea what they've done to make me unhappy with them (no one who reads this, though--or at least, nobody who I know reads this), and a desire to just abandon summer school and not return to Athens until Fall starts, if then.
Of course, none of this matters, as I still have a ten-minute play to write, I still have to act like I'm perfectly fine with said annoying people, and in a few short hours I'll be making the drive back. It's all silly, anyway.
Only two more weeks.

Dizzy With Sunstroke

Being back home (or more than likely, being momentarily away from Athens), it feels like some sort of weight has been lifted. I scared Ashleigh repeatedly last night by saying things like "It feels so good to be in Alpharetta." We talked about how just being back here it feels like we're back in high school, and maybe that feeling is what's doing it, but whatever it is, I like it. I feel better now.
Of course, come Sunday evening I'll be back in my dorm room doing Ethics homework for the next two weeks. But for now it's nice to be somewhere else.
The past day or so have had me really wanting to listen to my old Summer Mix, the only one some of you probably remember, from the summer after 11th grade. "Pockets Of Moonlight," after a Saves The Day lyric, and I listened to that thing day in and day out in the car as we drove around and around and around with no destination. Anytime I listen to one of the songs on that mix on another CD or on my computer or something, as it's ending I expect to hear the next song on the mix; it got that ingrained in my mind. Problem is, it's old, and for reasons unbeknownst to me, none of my older mixes will play in my car stereo. So I'll listen to the summer mix from last summer, or the one from this summer that wasn't intended to be a summer mix but sort of ended up having the feel of one, but it's not the same.
Tonight it's some acoustic show by some band in some coffeehouse in some part of Midtown, and hoping we won't get lost, and Australian accents, and listening to some inferior summer music in the car on the way down. And in the meantime, whatever I'm feeling, I like it and I'd like to keep it around for awhile, thanks.

Heartbreaker

Anybody feel like going to see Ryan Adams at the Tabernacle with me in September? Anybody? Bueller?

I'd Rather Be Here, Than Anywhere With You

I have never been as eager to go home as I am to go home this weekend. And that's saying something, because I'm usually fairly excited about going home, if only for the classic collegiate reasons of clean laundry and real food. My affection for Athens and all it contains has been wearing thin lately, the past few days especially, and since unlike during the regular semester I have quite a few more friends at home than at school, I am counting down the days 'til the weekend. Isn't that sad?
I've also been feeling the severe vileness of being single more than usual lately. It's been a couple of silly emotional things, combined with the little things like watching When Harry Met Sally... this afternoon and talking with a friend about his girlfriend. Add to that actually being told the vilest thing of all--the death knell of any single person who's single more by circumstance than by choice--and I quote: "Aw...you'll find someone, eventually!"
Excuse me while I wipe up the vomit. And I know, it's a phrase that's meant to be hopeful and optimistic, but comes off as oh-my-God-you've-reached-new-levels-of-patheticness-and-will-not-likely-ever-meet-someone-who-is-willing-to-put-up-with-you-so-you'd-better-go-ahead-and-settle-quick. Never mind that it was said by a good friend who likely didn't mean it to have any significance whatsoever. In any case, I've not reached the I'll-date-anyone low, but I'm not exactly a happily and well-adjustedly single here, either.
I've also lost interest in just about everything, which I'm sure is just summer-school's influence. TV, movies, music, going out, it all bores me, but come August 6th when I recieve my one-week-and-three-days of Freedom? It'll be the Disney Channel, the DVD counter at Blockbuster, burning CDs, and out every night. You'll see.
For now, I'll go get some sleep, and hope the next two days pass quickly.

Illicit Behavior
 
So I've wondered why I always seem to get my Entertainment Weekly around Wednesday or Thursday of the week the issue's for, and today I found out: it's because the mail room workers have to read it first. Yep. Makes sense, right? I was in the mail room picking up the Ryan Adams poster I'd ordered off Ebay a few weeks ago, and I saw this weeks EW with my name and address on it, sitting in a stack of magazines that they were reading or had finished reading. I guess that'd be nice, like having a free subscription to every magazine anybody in the entire dorm receives while they're up here, but it's still a little shifty. Well, I guess as long as I eventually get it, I shouldn't be too concerned. I still kinda want to punch the mail room girl in the face for reading my magazine before me, though. But that's okay. A perfectly normal human impulse.
And by the way, my Ryan Adams poster is very pretty. Very, very pretty.

All Too Aware
 
So hang on a minute--Zach Braff was in Atlanta doing a Q&A for Garden State and nobody had the presence of mind to let me know? That's pretty shitty. But okay, because I don't need anymore unrequited crushes on cute celebrities.
Tonight was a Count show at Tasty World (Count Kellam, for those three of you who care and don't know, was the lead guitarist of Bain Mattox and now has his own band, aptly titled "Count"), and it was both interesting and educational to experience a Count show sober this time. Hey, I actually heard the music and remember it! What a novel concept. In any case, it was a good show, even though it was loud enough to shake the building. I'm quite ready for Count's CD to come out--Margie says that Count says a week or so, but who knows. August, at least. So that'll be nice.
Human emotions are damn confusing things, y'know. You'd think that since we are constantly feeling emotions of some kind, we'd eventually learn to figure out what they mean and what they are, but no, that's certainly out of the question. Instead, we're left to wonder exactly what is going on. And it's fun, a tiny bit, but mostly it's just nerve-wracking. I think I'm just being silly.
There's a chance I may come home this coming weekend, as I have no plans in the ATH and all my friends go home all the time anyway. If I do, I want to hang out with one of you. Or two or three, even. So, just know that it's a possibility that I'll call you come the weekend and beg you to take pity on me and hang out with me. Just thought you'd like to know so you can go ahead and start preparing your excuses ahead of time.

Nostalgia?

Y'know? I'm not really loving the 90's so much this time around.

Things that I am, however, loving right now include but are not limited to:

Butch Walker's Heartwork EP, which arrived today

The fact that there's a Bain show tomorrow night

Vanilla pudding

Bands that prominently feature pianos (i.e. Keane)

Getting dreadful Ethics homework done early enough to be lazy

Fauxhawks

For the record, a few things that I am loving even less than I Love The 90's:

The fact that I need an idea for a 10-minute play by tomorrow

The fact that I've been listening to Dashboard Confessional compulsively

The fact that there's hail warning for Athens and my poor car is unprotected

My horrid phone

Why You'd Want To Live Here

I question the sanity of anyone who voluntarily lives in Georgia. I really do. I don't understand how anyone could actually choose to live in this miserable heat. Everything's sticky and it's hard to breathe. And the really fun part is that this is about as cold as it's going to get here in good ol' Athens until mid-to-late October or so.
We encountered a whole slew of ex-Miltonites at the Eddie's Attic open mic last night. A few were there to see David, but unbeknownst to us, one half of Chester (the Jennings/Ryan half) was playing as well and had brought everyone they'd ever met in their entire lives. They played the usual goofy funny-only-because-it's-incredibly-random songs, and managed to get into the top three along with two lesbians singing about lesbianism. (One of the lesbians won.) They were good, though girl-music grates on my nerves to the extent that I busied myself with reading the menu backwards while the Ani sound-a-likes droned on in the background.
Fun night though. And a (relatively) busy week, in that I had that last night, and then Thursday David's coming up for the solo Bain show at Flicker (the capacity is 30 and it's all requests--I'm excited; I love little shows) and then Saturday Pennington's coming up for another Count show at Tasty World. Add to that that I better be getting my copy of Heartwork in the mail tomorrow, and come to think of it, the Ryan Adams poster I bought off Ebay should be arriving soon as well, and you get a week that doesn't suck, so let's hope it lives up to my expectations.

Happy Belated JC Day

I was skimming through the Daily Reasons To Dispatch Bush on the McSweeney's site, and I came across this:

DAY 67:

In 2000, while he was Governor of Texas, George W. Bush signed a proclamation declaring June 10 as Jesus Day, urging Texans to "follow Christ's example by performing good works in their communities and neighborhoods."

Aw...we missed it! That would've been a good excuse for a party, too. Damn.

Phobic

I've decided that I need to live with a boy. Be it a male roommate, a live-in boyfriend, a husband a long, long way down the line, whatever. Whoever it is, he needs to be male and he needs to be willing and able to kill bugs. Because I am most definitely the worst exterminator in the universe. Unless you can kill giant insects with convulsive sobs and panicked breathing, I most definitely need someone of the male persuasion to take care of these sorts of things.

Nineteen Candles

01: Was rather small. Apparently rarely cried and slept even less, thus setting the stage for my deplorable sleeping habits.
02: Was a baby. And that's all I can really say about that.
03: Fell of a tricycle on the church playground. Three stitches to the forehead, leaving a scar just barely still visible if you know what to look for. Uneven brick is not appropriate for places where tricycles are ridden, if you ask me. Moved to Florida.
04: Had a birthday party at a Chuck E. Cheese. Did not understand why it wasn't some sort of nationally-recognized holiday where everyone got off work and the mail stopped.
05: Was first in kindergarten class to learn to read. Was introduced to the idea of cooties when male neighborhood friend decided that he could no longer play with girls, because "yuck!".
06: Got in first real fight with best friend Kimberly, over which of us could play with the United States puzzle. Was on the Math Superstars team, thus contradicting a lifetime of being horrible at mathematics.
07: Was close friends with a neighbor, Jonathan, who liked to catch lizards and attach them to his ears like earrings. Was shipped off to another school one day a week for the Gifted program.
08: Went on a cruise with parents and grandparents, on which had first real relationship with a boy named Ari, which consisted of attempting to sneak into the ship casino and blushing brightly when his younger brother caught us holding hands.
09: Moved to Texas. Friend Sara got her first kiss (from a boy named Casey) and told me that french-kissing was "gross" and that I shouldn't engage in it. Attended first concert (Amy Grant, sad to say).
10: Frequently rollerbladed across the street with neighbor Jayson to the local video store, Jesse's Video, where Jesse would give us leftover Halloween candy and movie recommendations (R-rated movies, which my parents were not happy about.)
11: Had an inside joke with a few friends that I was a witch, which was funny until someone I had never met actually asked if it was true. Had a crush on a boy named Wallace Stanley, who with such a name, should probably just go ahead and major in accounting.
12: Moved to Alpharetta. Had the locker above a very, very bitchy girl, and felt absolutely no remorse the day that I accidentally (I mean it!) slammed the door into her head.
13: Went through skater-punk phase in which was neither a skater nor a punk. Was bestfriends with Leigh Anne and Jason. Discovered a little band called the Marvelous 3, that had a lead singer that I kinda liked.
14: Had jaw surgery and was puffy for an entire summer, consuming only liquids. Snuck into first R-rated movie with Jason (The Bone Collector), and worried the whole way through the film that we were about to get kicked out.
15: Cast as The Narrator in "Peter Pan," thus beginning a tradition of moderately unimportant roles in Milton theatre. Stopped being friends with Leigh Anne for good. Was finally talked into reading Harry Potter.
16: Skipped classes for the first of many times, mainly thanks to Yearbook. Saw Moulin Rouge for the first time. Started blog, thus helping to start a trend that's all but died out.
17: Successfully framed a bitchy girl for the rolling of a horribly annoying girl's house. Had plenty of school spirit. Obtained an automobile named Ruby. Entered the world of the high-school graduate.
18: Became a Bulldog. Learned to love and talk college football. Easily transitioned into the life of a normal college student. Just as easily transitioned into the life of a groupie, minus the sex-with-band-members part.
19: Will be continuing with much of the same, especially the rabit concert-going and Bulldog-being. Will not be granted any extra legal rights (except those garnered through use of a fake ID). Will try to be optimistic. Will try not to develop any additional bad habits, as I have enough for now. Will apply to Journalism school. Will not be single (see? Optimistic already). Will be almost old. Will be going to sleep now.

A Friendly Reminder

Guess what's in four days. Guess. Oh, you know. Yes, that's right, July 6th, my birthday. Keep that in mind over the next four days as you're doing your high-end electronic shopping, recreational boat shopping, and cute male celebrity shopping. I would like a plasma TV, a pretty green sailboat, and Ewan McGregor, please.

Slow On The Uptake

It's only years later she realizes. I only just now realized that Brand New's "Seventy Times 7" and Taking Back Sunday's "There's No 'I' In Team" are responses to one another. Or rather, one is a response to the other, but I'm still unclear on which is to which. And I couldn't even realize it on my own from listening to them each about a trillion damn times, I had to read it some messageboard! Well, I feel rather stupid, but it's way cool to listen to the songs back-to-back now that I know the story behind them. It's interesting to discover that you've had a song's meaning wrong all along.