Something's Wrong

I don't understand.
The mob screams BUYBUYBUY and of course, we do. We heed that call.
They chanted "push the doors in" and trampled a man to death. To death.
But I can't really feel okay saying "they". It places the blame on the one group, rather than all of us. And it is all of us.
That one Long Island Wal-Mart was not the only place where violence broke out. All across the the country, people were--are--willing to hurt others for something so trivial as a holiday sale.
It could have happened anywhere.
Which is frightening and sickening and wrong.
And then it's sensationalized: "Check out pictures of the chaotic scene," the photo gallery blurb reads. Like it's something we should ogle. Or check out.
What I want to know is: Why?
Whywhywhy.

I can't really express all this. I feel tangled.

Forget Twighlight.

Watch this movie instead. Because it's awesome.

Hogwarts Hogwarts Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

Oh man, guys. I forgot. I truly forgot how much I love the Harry Potter series.
I guess I'd become jaded about it. Prolly around the fifth book.
But last night,when I was supposed to be sleeping, I picked up The Sorcerer's Stone. And read half of it before I decided that maybe it was time to turn the light out. Since it was the first time in years that I'd read it, it was like experiencing the adventure all over again. I had to suppress laughter when Hagrid gave Dudley a tail. By the time Harry got to Ollivander's, I was grinning like an idiot. And I really wanted to punch Malfoy for harassing Ron on the train to Hogwarts.
I've gotta give it to Rowling. She did create a great world, and a great adventure (even if she annihilated it all in the epilogue of the seventh).



Once more a believer, and yours...

Don't you just love it when your life explodes?

I'm not going to get into college. You want to know why?
Because I spelled "theoretical" wrong on a certain document.
Which I photocopied.
And handed to a certain fiery cat.
You want to know what this document is?
IT'S MY FREAKIN' SECONDARY SCHOOL REPORT!!!
THAT'S GOING TO BE SENT TO EVERY PRIVATE SCHOOL I'M APPLYING TO!!!
They're going to think I'm stupid and none of them will let me in and my life will be one great big stinking hole of misery and despair.
All because I didn't check my darn spelling.
RAWRGhlkdfnvfk,zgnos;izdflvkmlkndsfvmnsdzlkf

It's Like Hating Rainbows

Let's talk about Proposition 8 for a moment, shall we?
First off, the fact that it was up for discussion at all is ludicrous. But that it passed... I feel there must be something seriously wrong with us.

Please read the arguments for and against Prop 8 here before proceeding. Because having a grasp on both sides of the story is important, regardless of what you may believe. Also, here's a link the official title and summary of Prop 8.

Now for the show.
Some (paraphrased) arguments I'd heard in favor of Prop 8, and my responses (in green):

• "I don't have a problem with gay people. In fact, my [insert relation here] is gay. I respect gay rights, but I feel that nobody should have the right to marry. Marriage is unhealthy, which I say as a married (wo)man. Getting married was the biggest mistake I ever made. That's why I'm voting yes on Prop 8."

You know what, though Example Statement #1? That's bullshit. It doesn't matter that you think that marriage is unhealthy (because your marriage is unhealthy). As it stands, Prop 8 closed the door on the right to marriage for gay people only. And that isn't right. If there was a proposition to eliminate straight marriage or even all marriage, how do you think the community--as a whole--would respond? Eliminating people's rights will not fix your broken life. Get a divorce if you hate marriage.

• "Being gay is bad."

No it isn't. Don't hurt people because of who they love.

• "Gay people don't need to get married. They have domestic partnerships."

Actually, domestic partnership and marriage are not the same thing at all and they do not hold all the same legal benefits in common. But ignoring all that, there is a certain romantic something about marriage that everybody should be able to have--if they so choose. Domestic partnerships--though quite arguably better than nothing--perpetuate the idea of "separate but equal" that was socially acceptable during the time of racial segregation.

• "My religion says that marriage should be between a man and a woman."

Whatever happened to the separation of church and state? Anyhow, your God is not everybody's God. What if my religion (if I were religious) said that marriage should be between people of the same sex only?

• "Marriage should be between a man and a woman only. It has nothing to do with religion. I just don't want gay marriage to be forced on me."

Um... what does it have to do with, though? The status quo? Does the idea of "gay" make you uncomfortable? Fearing what is not familiar to you simply because it is different from what you know or are used to is really stupid. And nothing would have been forced on you, had 8 failed. But not being able to be married was forced on countless gay and lesbian couples.

• This one's a doozy. It comes straight out of the argument in favor of 8 from the California Voter's Guide that I linked to: "It restores the definition of marriage to what the vast majority of California voters already approved and human history has understood marriage to be."

The vast majority of California voters? What about the minority that doesn't understand marriage to be something exclusively for hetero people? As for human history... Human History hangs, draws, quarters, and puts heads/babies on pikes. It slaughters people in concentration camps because of their religion/sexual orientation/ethnicity/etc. It denies women the right to vote. It segregates and enslaves and wars and rapes and bombs and pillages and plunders. Don't base a damn thing on the way Human History has understood things. A lot of the time, Human History is a douchebag.

Oh how I wish I could have voted in this election, if it meant just one more vote against Proposition 8.

The world is filled with isms and phobias. Racism. Sexism. Xenophobia. Homophobia. Anti-Semitism. It's all bad. And with the passage of Prop 8, it got worse. Let's do something about it. Sign a petition. Protest (peacefully). Pray. Join a facebook group. Whatever. Get your voice heard.

Because nobody should fuck with love.

Angrily, arguing-ly, ally-ly yours...

Also, talk to me about this in comments. Especially those of you who did/would have voted in favor of prop 8 (if any of you would have, though I sincerely hope not). I want to hear everybody's point of view. Be respectful, though. Any hateful comments will be deleted.

Tired.

Why?
Well, for some reason I decided that it would be a really great idea to stay up until midnight to see my SAT scores. Come midnight (and some minutes), THEY WEREN'T UP YET. The College Board was all "Your November SAT scores will be available on November 2oth" and I was all "It IS November 20th!"
And then I went to bed. But instead of sleeping, like I should have, I finished reading The Bell Jar. Which is amazing. But still. Sleep is also amazing.

Zzzzz-ly yours...

A Cold Cup Of Tea

Sigh.
I always let my tea go cold.
That is not a metaphor. I've been sitting here with a huge mug of delicious tea. And I let it go cold. Merely that.
On Tuesday, I am auditioning for The Vagina Monologues. I am nervous as all hell (supposing hell gets nervous).
There is a hole in the middle-upper-inner left thigh of my once-upon-a-time jeans (they are now cut-off shorts and very thin and worn).
My dog is staring at me through the doorway to my mum's office. She looks a little bit sad.
My left foot is asleep.
Davy Jones is staring at me from the side of the refrigerator. As is The Mayor from The Powerpuff Girls.
Yesterday the wind was mighty strange and powerful. It woke me up. Sounded like adventure.
Freddie Mercury wants me to find him somebody to love. Freddy Mercury is dead.
I pass time in school by furtively scribbling poetry in the margins of notebooks.
I want to be/do/create something fantastic.
But I don't feel like walking like an Egyptian.
I just quoted the Spice Girls in an academic forum for my AP Literature class. Is that bad?
I leave my computer now, in favor of frozen yogurt.

Ramblingly yours...

YES WE CAN

I can't stop laughing. I can't stop crying.
Barack Obama is my president. And I am so. Happy.
I have been one of the cynical ones. The ones who say "Screw America let's move to France."
But tonight I have faith. I believe in this country. And it feels so wonderful.

Happily...

Hold On--Sarah McLachlan

So I stole this from a friend. And modified it. And now here it is... A new Meme! HUZZAH!

1. Put Your iTunes, Windows Media Player, Winamp, etc on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.
4. Put the artist after a dash following the song name.
5. Put any comments in brackets.
6. Tag some lucky people to spread the disease.

How would you describe yourself?
Elephant-- Damien Rice
[Such a sad song...]

How do you feel today?
Wait Up--Matt Nathanson

What is your life’s purpose?
Battleflag--Pigeonhed
[Apparently, I've got a revolution behind my eyes...]

What is your motto?
Je Suis Alle--David Hopkins

What do you think about very often?
Corner Of Your Heart--Ingrid Michaelson

What is your life story?
Kiss--Prince
[Not even remotely.]

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Start the Commotion--The Wiseguys
[Though I suppose that's more a matter of doing than being.]

What will you dance to at your wedding?
Wake Me Up When Septmber Ends--Green Day
[Huh. Okay.]

What will they play at your funeral?
Gimme Stitches--Foo Fighters
[Well, that's a little bit creepy]

What is your hobby/interest?
I Got You--Split Enz
[See, the problem with this is that sometimes the song titles make NO SENSE in the context of my life.]

If you could do anything right now, what would it be?
I'm Like A Bird--Nelly Furtado

What do you want most of all?
Little Toy Gun--Honey Honey
[Dear Buddha, I want a pony and a plastic rocket and a little toy gun...?]

What is your greatest fear?
Ring of Fire--Johnny Cash

What is your darkest secret?
Sunday Morning--Maroon 5
[Does that mean every Sunday? Or is there a particular one? I suppose the secret is so dark that my unconcious has suppressed it really well.]

What is your favorite thing in the world?
Peace On Earth--U2

If you could have one wish, what would you wish for?
Lover I Don't Have To Love--Bright Eyes
[Eesh. I hope not...]

What is your theme song?
People Get Ready--The Frames

The next time you hear this song (aside from now, that is), you must dance.
Violin Concerto in E Minor, Op. 64-Allegretto non troppo - Allegro molto vivace--Henryk Szeryng, Bernard Haitink; Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra

What will you post this as?
Hold On--Sarah McLachlan

And now I shall tag... Twyla Lee, Eli, Aella and Medeia, Steph, B, and Quarantinedfire

Musically...

Hallowe'en!

Today is the day.
I am a marionette.
All is right with the world.

And you are?

Masquerading-ly yours...

So much...

... homework.
So many rehearsals.
So many college essays to write.
So very much to do.

On the bright side, I get to go see Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band live! REALLY soon!
I would marry Conor Oberst, I think. Cause he's brilliant. But then I would also marry Neil Patrick Harris (Dr. Horrible), who is gay. And Harold (from Harold and Maude), who is a fictional character. And Gene Kelly, who is dead.

It seems that all of the people whom I would quite happily marry are in some way or another quite unavailable.

So, you know.

That is all.

Busy, contemplating marriage and yours...

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow...

Did you know that the English word "essay" stems from the French verb "essayer", which means "to try"?
Yep.
The "most brilliant essay of [my] high school career thus far" is due at midnight.
But no pressure.

Right?

Oh wait. Wrong.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Full of sound and fury, but still yours...

Roar.

Is how I feel right now.
Stupid everything.

Book Banning

It's just something that I cannot comprehend.
Books are important. They're up there with water and oxygen and love. But people are so afraid. They're afraid of war and sex and witchcraft and religion and death. So they try to hide it all behind government regulations, because they don't want their children exposed to "that kind of thing". But why? After all, life is "that kind of thing". Censorship is unhealthy. It's just another form of repression that contributes to building messed-up adults who are not comfortable enough with themselves and their world to be happy.

In related news... did you know that Where's Waldo was the 88th most frequently challenged book from 1990 to 2000?
I think that I speak for most everybody when I say WTF?! (Apparently there's a topless woman in the beach scene... or so says my trusty informer)

Anyhow.
Vive le livre!














Just a few of the at-one-time-or-another challenged/banned books that reside so happily in my home.(from top to bottom: The Giver by Lois Lowry; A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess; Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein; Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling; The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler; The Witches by Roald Dahl; To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee; A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle; Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll; The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket; and [on the right, obscuring my face] The Arabian Nights)

Reading no matter what they say and yours...

Must be the sign on my head that says oh... love me dead!

So here I am burning my tongue on Dr. McDougall's vegan minestrone soup. And I think to myself: I think I just my be skilled enough to blog whilst burning my tongue.
And so I shall. About what, you ask? Music. Why? Because I love it/can/wantosothere.
What follows is a review. Yep. They may just pop up once in a while.


Band: Ludo
Album: You're Awful, I Love You
Ludo sounds a bit like some atypical frat boys discovered pop rock of the likes of Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out Boy, and My Chemical Romance. They liked it well enough, but thought: we can do better.
So they learned to play instruments and sing and do all those things that bands seem to do. This led to the creation of a sound that is bouncy and energetic, with some roughness around the edges. Which makes it a perfect soundtrack for room cleaning/staying awake while walking to school/dancing instead of studying/being a badass.*

The lead singer and primary songwriter, Andrew Volpe has that slightly-whiny-yet-endearing-and-somehow-not-really-annoying tone to his voice that seems to be a staple in the world of cool male bands. A few of their songs (namely Please and Such as it Ends) dabble primarily in the realm of typical pop-rock. Most other tracks, however, carry the quirkycreepyodd gene that makes their music so ridiculously appealing. Such deviations from the norm include (radio hit) Love Me Dead, Go Getter Greg, The Horror of Our Love, and Drunken Lament (all of which will likely appear on my Top 25 Most Played list relatively soon). Ultimately, their lyrics are made of a lot of awesome... because quirkycreepyodd is definitely one of my favorite flavors.

Top of the figurative pile!

* but that could just be because I like having as many opportunities as I possibly can to use the word "badass"

Breaking Dawn. A Conversation. With Myself.

So. I got Breaking Dawn around the time it came out and read a large portion of it in a pretty short period of time. But when I got to the "simple" necklace with the diamond the size of a golf ball on page 532, I put the book down and didn't pick it up again for a solid two months. (Not that the necklace was by any means the most frustrating thing. Not by a half. In fact, I have a fairly hefty rant stored in my mental files. But we'll get to that later.) I picked it up this morning in an attempt to delay the inevitable studying, and ended up finishing it. At that point I thought: Man. I can't review this book. It's just too ridiculous.

But I can record the conversation that took place between pre- and post-Breaking Dawn me. Here goes...

Pre-Breaking Dawn Rae: Edward or Jacob?
Post-Breaking Dawn Rae: Garrett. Fo' shiz.

Pre: Werewolves are awesome.
Post: Werewolves aren't werewolves... WTF?!

Pre: It's kinda stupid that Jacob is in love with Bella.
Post: OH MY GOD. MEYER YOU LOSE. OF ALL THE COP-OUTS IN ALL THE WORLD...

Pre: Bella Swan is kind of a boring name.
Post: Renesmee? Really?

Pre: Bella should get a personality.
Post: Never mind. If personality means "masochistic, sex-crazed maniac".*

Pre: Oatmeal-coloured turtleneck sweaters (or whatever) are not attractive on anybody. Not even Edward Cullen.
Post: Did he just say that denim has its own scent? Oi.

Pre: I wonder how Bella will be as a vampire...
Post: Oh. Okay. It's Bella. But h4wtt3r.

Pre: Epic battle?
Post: Nope.

Pre: Please?
Post: Nope.

Pre: Why?
Post: I haven't the foggiest notion. Maybe Stephanie Meyer just couldn't bear to pull a Rowling. So instead of a bunch of important characters dying... none. of. them. did. And they all lived HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

Huzzah.

Anyway.

I was never a fangirl. I sported no t-shirts. I stalked no forums. I never had a screen name along the lines of mrsedwardcullen447, nor did I ever write any such thing on my binder and encircle it with a heart drawn in my own blood in hopes that Edward--fictional character though he is--would be tantalized by the scent(Oh god... can you imagine?).

But I liked the series, in my own way. Had sort of a love-hate relationship with it, I guess. So I was never a Twilight Saga cynic, either. Until I read Breaking Dawn and came to the depressing realization that the books were a best-selling tribute to many things that I am heartily against.

That's all for now. Sleep beckons.

Conversationally yours...

*rant to follow within the general realm of someday

Fire within me! Water around me! Air above me! Earth below me! Forest before me!

So. I've pretty much always been a nerd. Even when I was say, eight, and watched bad television, it was nerdy bad television. Recently, one particular show has been haunting me. I could remember the general premise, some of the characters, and the fact that it was a lot like Mighty Morphin Power Rangers except even more on crack plus in Ireland (sort of) and with faeries; but I couldn't remember what it was called.
Thanks to the wonders of Wikipedia, though, I was able to find out its name:The Mystic Knights of Tir Na Nog. Behold the glory...


Classy, no?
Indeed. I had very good taste.
I remember thinking that Deirdre was made of uberawesome and being totally frustrated that her element wasn't water.

Another example of my impeccable taste... When I was in kindergarten, I was absolutely infatuated with a series of books called The Jewel Kingdom.

Classic literature. No doubt about it.

I think I wanted to be the emerald princess. Or maybe the ruby one. Possibly both. But not the diamond one or the sapphire one. They were the boring ones, as far as I can remember. Whereas Roxanne the Ruby Princess and Emily the Emerald Princess were TOTALLY BADASS!


So basically, in case you had any doubt whatsoever, I always was and continue to be ridiculously, utterly and inescapably cool.
Period. The end.

Self-deprecating humor-having-ly, nerdily, nostalgically yours...

Markus Zusak...

... is brilliant. I tried to start this post in various ways. More interesting, engaging ways. But the truth is, nothing but that simple sentence felt quite right.

Back when The Book Thief came out, in 2006, I couldn't help but pick it up. It was narrated by Death. It was beautiful. And heartbreaking. It became one of my favourite books of all time before I even turned the last page. I vowed to read another of Zusak's books. And--in my usual manner--promptly forgot.

Until the other day, that is, when I picked up a copy of I Am the Messenger, which was on very good sale at a local independent bookstore. I had thought that it didn't look nearly as promising as The Book Thief, but I bought it anyhow. It was absolutely amazing. Poetic. Meaningful. It made me laugh out loud. It made me cry. It made me think. I finished it quickly, and--much to the amusement and possible annoyance of my mum--the following hours (even days, now I think on it) were punctuated by sudden proclamations of: "Oh my god, that book was fantastic!"

When you get right down to it, precious few authors have impacted me so.
Zusak's style of writing is beautiful and unlike anything else I've read.
His stories ring true. They remind me of breathing. And life. If that makes sense. Or even if it doesn't.

So anyhow... if you need something to read, by all means, pick up a a book by Markus Zusak.

"Usually, we walk around constantly believing ourselves. 'I'm okay,' we say. 'I'm all right.' But sometimes the truth arrives on you, and you can't get it off."
-- from I Am the Messenger, by Markus Zusak (That quotation really struck me... I would include one from The Book Thief, as well, but I lent my copy to somebody and haven't got it back yet)

Admiringly, praise-singingly, and yours

Multitasking.

You know that kid who can skateboard down the street, texting, with music pumping into one ear and a wireless headset in the other?

That's definitely not me.
Let me explain.

Last night, I was eating salad. It had a lot of vinegar on it, because vinegar is delicious. While I ate it, I was reading I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone by Stephanie Kuehnert. It's an awesome book (like, amazing... it renewed my practically futile rock-band aspirations), just as Stephanie is an awesome person (we met her on Friday through Not Your Mother's Book Club). Needless to say, I wasn't paying attention to my salad. So when a piece of lettuce flipped a hearty amount of vinegar into my eye, I was both in serious pain as well as just seriously embarrassed. I mean, really. Am I so inept that I can't eat and read at the same time? It's not that I ever (everever) want to become the texting/skateboarding/talking on the phone/ipod worshipping/ignoring the people around me girl wonder. But it would be great if I could read while eating dinner without launching an acidic substance into my eye.

Walking down the street and reading, though? I've got that one down. I've yet to walk into a pole (*cough*Eli*cough*) while doing so.


Relatively inept, reading constantly, and yours,

Hallo.

Hallo everyone!
I'm alive.
Isn't it wonderful?
Anyhow...well, I suppose that's all for now.

Getting used to being called by her real name...