tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216046242024-02-20T03:21:40.300-05:00I LIKE CAPSLOCK.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-86869429516759982042009-03-02T02:55:00.002-05:002009-03-02T03:33:56.812-05:0017-Year-Old InsomniacPretty simple: iTunes on shuffle, don't cheat, list, tag your friends, have a good laugh.<br /><br />1. Opening Credits:<br />Bryn - Vampire Weekend<br />[This has the right sound for an upbeat opening credits-type song]<br /><br />2. Waking Up:<br />Rockist Part 1 - School of Language<br />[This one's just weird, though]<br /><br />3. First Day of School:<br />Lloyd, I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken - Camera Obscura<br />[Once again, this has the right sound (obliviously optimistic music, exhausted lyrics) for this]<br /><br />4. Falling In Love:<br />RoboCop - Kanye West<br />[I'ma fall in love with a cyborg, y'all]<br /><br />5. Arguing:<br />Moonshiner - Bob Dylan<br />["When the bottle gets empty, it sure ain't worth a damn." This would probably be better for the next one, but it works here too, I guess.]<br /><br />6. Breaking-Up:<br />Long and Lazy River - Nellie McKay<br />[Doesn't work at all. I could never break up over the sound of a happily plinking piano]<br /><br />7. Prom:<br />New Disaster - Elliott Smith<br />["Everyone is the same in this long, no-win game." Pretty solid] <br /><br />8. Life:<br />Dinner Bells - Wolf Parade<br />[Well, I like to think my life isn't this dirge-y]<br /><br />9. Boring Job:<br />Rusted Silhouette - Drake Bell<br />[Oh, um. This is embarrassing. Moving along...]<br /><br />10. Mental Breakdown:<br />Magpie - The Mountain Goats<br />[This one fits nicely]<br /><br />11. Driving:<br />This Time - The Dimes<br />[So does this one. It's even about traveling.]<br /><br />12. Flashback:<br />Lake Somerset - Deerhunter<br />[A very angry, techno flashback]<br /><br />13. Getting Back Together:<br />Lover's Spit - Broken Social Scene<br />[I get it]<br /><br />14. Wedding:<br />Santa Clause Is Coming to Town - Mason Jennings<br />[Yes. The possibility of me getting married is about as real as Santa]<br /><br />15. Birth of First Child:<br />What Difference Does It Make? - The Smiths<br />[OUCH, iTunes]<br /><br />16. Final Battle:<br />Rock-A-Bye-Baby - Traditional<br />[HAHAHAHAHAHA. Wait, why is this on my iTunes?]<br /><br />17. Death:<br />Salina - The Avett Brothers<br />[Eh, it works]<br /><br />18. Funeral:<br />Sissyneck - Beck<br />[Please don't]<br /><br />19. End Credits:<br />Don't You Worry - Jim Noir<br />[Okay.]Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-54847165297635156192009-02-20T21:06:00.003-05:002009-02-20T23:36:28.742-05:00Wanna hear some high school melodrama? I swear to god, sometimes I feel like I'm on a fucking TV show.<br /><br />I was best friends with this girl, M, until sophomore year when she felt that I was getting more attention than she was, and she decided to tell everyone I'm a fake, ugly lesbian. Of course, everyone believed her and threw me under a bus. Fair enough. She has since spent the last two years making my life a living hell for absolutely no reason, and did essentially everything in her power to make me an outcast. Since she's known for being a compulsive liar, nobody really believed her and I got through it mostly unscathed. Until this year. Apparently she is "entirely different" and is now friends with the people who have spent the last three years criticizing her, the people I heard her cry about so many times in our first two years of high school. So, okay, people like her now. That's fine. Except she's not content with "live and let live"ing. God, no. She has to continue this pathetic vendetta against me until even this year. And now we are getting to the actual point of my story:<br /><br />Last Saturday, Valentines' Day (as it were), I went to a party and got trashed. While I was sitting in the hallway, this very cute kid I sort of knew basically dove on me and started making out. I later found out that a ton of people saw this, and saw us go upstairs shortly after. We fooled around in the host's guest room ("fooling around" in the high school sense, ie, no sex) and it was fine and fun and nobody's feelings were hurt. I'm 17 and single, I'm allowed to have some fun, right?<br /><br />Evidently not. M found out about it and since the dude is in a band with her, she felt obligated to call him and read him the riot act. I am such a disgusting bitch that he should be ashamed he even talked to me, that sort of thing. And now I'm the talk of the all-boys' school, since there's endless speculation about what happened upstairs. So not only am I a disgusting bitch lesbian, but I'm also a two-bit whore. Also, the kid I hooked up with has shamefully low standards. We haven't spoken since.<br /><br />I mean, what the fuck? This girl won. She has the right boyfriend and the right group of friends and people generally like her. Why does she have to keep fucking with me? And who is she to say who her friend (the boy) can and can't hook up with?<br /><br />GAHHHHHH.<br /><br />My two therapies are writing and music. I already got one out of the way, so here's my "Oh God I Am So Sick Of High School And My Reputation Is Ruined, FML. Also Most Of These Songs Are Rather Upbeat" playlist. (Artist - Song Title)<br /><br />1. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/4MVlPV7AF7k">Shout Out Louds - Tonight I Have To Leave It</a><br /><i>Oh no, you're not sorry. No you're not</i><br /><br />2. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/lCkkeNWiNRY">Against Me! - Thrash Unreal</a><br /><i>Yeah, we do what we do to get by, and then we need a release</i><br /><br />3. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGtJs3PngtI">Belle & Sebastian - Is It Wicked Not To Care?</a><br /><i>Is it wicked not to care when you've wasted many hours talking endlessly to anyone that's there?</i><br /><br />4. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WUq_gBa_8iQ">Blink-182 - Dammit</a><br /><i>Did you hear? He fucked her.</i><br /><br />5. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfdVacTi3JU">Suburban Kids With Biblical Names - Shitty Weekend</a><br /><i>I am trying to be mad as hell, but I end up getting drunk instead</i><br /><br />6. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRoRKmMEbl8">Camera Obscura - Suspended From Class</a><br /><i>I'm sorry about making a pass. It was subtle, but I think that you grasped the meaning intended.</i><br /><br />7. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfI7HbEQLCc">The Strokes - Razorblade</a><br /><i>Oh no, my feelings are more important than yours. Oh, drop dead. I don't care. I won't worry</i><br /><br />8. Rilo Kiley - Salute MY Shorts! (no video for this one)<br /><i>We've been waiting all year for someone to just say, "Everyone fucks up. It's going to be okay."</i><br /><br />9. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZR-sdwyyPM">Say Anything - Signal The Rifleman</a><br /><i>I'll make it out of this high school hellhole and fly away</i><br /><br />10. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9dP51_WssU">Born Ruffians - I Need A Life</a><br /><i>Those party habits are gone and dead. I'm turning in my old sinful ways for a dull new life</i><br /><br />11. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_i1xk07o4g">Vampire Weekend - Oxford Comma</a><br /><i>Why would you lie about something dumb like that? Why would you lie about anything at all? First the window, then it's to the wall. Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth.</i><br /><br />12. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Dr7pTMBApI">Love Spit Love - Am I Wrong?</a><br /><i>I can't stay in this place. I can't stand when the room turns round on my face</i><br /><br />13. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZH9j5ubaK0">The 88 - Battle Scar</a><br /><i>The fun that you don't really need opens you up like books</i><br /><br />14. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YBn4ptEb5I">The National - Guest Room</a><br /><i>They'll find us here, here, here in the guest room</i> (That one's pretty obvious actually)<br /><br />15. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EET4Hwd-GzI">Violent Femmes - Kiss Off</a><br /><i>Behind my back I can see them stare. They'll hurt me bad, but I won't mind. They'll hurt me bad; they do it all the time (yeah yeah) They do it all the time.</i><br /><br />16. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujhdf9_IO4w">Paul Simon - Kodachrome</a><br /><i>When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, it's a wonder I can think at all</i><br /><br />17. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aG0aURpdvR4">Steve Burns - What I Do On Saturday</a><br /><i>I'm just a boring example of everybody else. I'll never tell you what I do on Saturday</i><br /><br />Fun fact: Steve Burns, the guy who wrote and performs that last song, is "Steve" of Blues Clues. He has an indie band now.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-80835943055883099582009-02-19T23:39:00.003-05:002009-02-20T23:36:48.571-05:00On instant messenger, my friend and I were talking about that dude with two dicks. Then we were talking about how important it is to have a sense of serious as opposed to a sense of humor. This conversation followed:<br /><br />Me: stop laughing. you have such a shitty sense of serious<br />Him: I am sorry.<br />Me: Thank you.<br />Him: That is a serious issue.<br />Me: It is. I don't appreciate you taking it so lightly.<br />Him: You should not use the word "don't." It is not serious enough.<br />Me: Fuck you.<br /> I am so serious. <br />Him: I have strong hatred against you.<br />Me: You are a raging dickwad. I do not understand why we are friends.<br />Him: Go stuff a double-dick up your anus.<br />Me: I do not want your sloppy seconds.<br /><br />That's probably only funny to the people involved, but I wanted to remember that it occurred.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-83077823964359134562009-02-01T01:52:00.000-05:002009-02-01T01:53:03.933-05:00TONIGHT IS AWESOMEMarebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-52980608045375773502008-12-21T01:08:00.002-05:002008-12-21T01:18:59.463-05:00So, about that...I never really did write on here, did I? I suppose I could have used the literary exercise; my essays weren't good enough to get me into my first choice college. I simply got deferred, or, as I like to call it, rejected in slow motion. Deferral is one of the single-most frustrating circumstances, especially when you're lounging in application purgatory while all of your friends are getting acceptance letters from their favorite colleges. I know I sound bitter and cranky here, but I'm really not. I'm unbelievably happy for my friends, f'reals. <br /><br />I just got home from babysitting and I made more in one night than I did in two weeks of waitressing. I need a new job. <br /><br />I'm already on winter break, praise jeebus, and I've pretty much just been hanging out with my friends who are home from their respective universities. I needed a break from all of my high school bullshit, and they've been a welcome one.<br /><br />Damn this entry is boring and self-involved. I'll try to be less of a dickbag on here from now on.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-53930612822480240782008-07-31T00:15:00.003-04:002008-07-31T00:17:45.750-04:00"Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love."<br /><br />Man, Shakespeare knew how to say it, didn't he? I'll be blogging more often, I need to get back into the swing of things to prepare for application essays (HOLYSHIT).Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-51915642013777310212008-03-17T15:43:00.005-04:002008-03-18T00:08:45.311-04:00I need to get out of my head sometimes. I've tried so hard to do that lately, and the way I've tried is by talking more, but then I notice people acting as if they'd kill their mothers to make me shut up. I can tell, the way they move so that their backs are facing me, the distant, glazed look they get whenever I try to say something, the excuses they find to be somewhere else. They liked me better when I would just come up with a snappy one-liner every once in a while. I did too, actually.<br /><br />I can't tell if I'm normal if a bit on the introspective side, or an overthinking, antisocial freak of nature. Am I the only person who has extremely involved daydreams nearly all the time? I invent situations, and then think of how people I know would react to them, and what I would do, and on and on and it's an hour later and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing. I get so bored and frustrated with regular life that I just think about something dramatic happening to me. I daydream so often and so intensely that half the time I forget that everything I think about is a lie. <br /><br />See? If I didn't think those things, (or in this case, write them down), then I would just SAY THEM. OUT LOUD. TO PEOPLE. I just have no idea how people deal with me.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-77731358287368724452008-03-13T16:49:00.004-04:002008-03-13T17:03:12.090-04:00Things that are comforting:<br /><br />My dog, and the way he just jumps up on my bed and lies next to me and then ignores me, as if he's too cool for me and can't believe he's even here<br />My mom's perfume that actually doesn't smell good and I would never be caught dead wearing<br />Macaroni and cheese<br />Wes Anderson movies (especially The Royal Tenenbaums and Rushmore)<br />My best friend's car<br />Green sweatpants <br />Orange juice<br />My big blanket<br />My big grey sweatshirt from that camp I went to one year<br />Gloves<br />Baking<br />My stuffed bear<br />My fish, Spike<br />My sunglasses<br />Amelie<br />The Big Lebowski<br />Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind<br />The soundtrack to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind<br />Shakespeare<br />Letters (mail-letters)<br />Letters (alphabet-letters)<br />Phone calls that go on late into the night, that aren't about anything bad, just to talk<br />My really old sneakers, the ones with the insides falling apart and the holes forming on the sides<br />Socks<br />Bathrobes<br />Candles<br />Crackers<br />That sound a match makes when you first light it<br />Soup<br />The song "Blackbird" by the Beatles<br />Well, any song by the Beatles, really<br />Holding hands<br />Hand-drawn pictures<br />The color green<br />SweatersMarebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-19036612172078781262008-03-12T19:58:00.002-04:002008-03-12T20:04:19.094-04:00I get in a weird mood when I read. I always have. <br /><br />I used to read a lot when I was a little kid, actually. It got to the point where I got in trouble for reading too much, which is sort of funny on the surface, but also kind of sad now that I think about it. I didn't think it was sad then. <br /><br />My parents were concerned because I did nothing but read, and they thought there was something wrong with me socially. I was a very serious little kid, which is weird to think about now, because I come off as sort of a ditz nowadays. It might be on purpose, it's probably on purpose, to compensate for the fact that I was a remarkably serious child. I had my friends, and I liked to go out and do things, but what I liked the most was to get a new book and read it on the big white chair in the living room. But if I did that, my parents would say things at me, so I started reading in my room, where my parents would come in and say things at me, so I started reading in the bathroom. I was finally safe in there, safe from their concerned looks and pointed questions.<br /><br />I'm glad I turned out to be fairly normal and happy-go-lucky, because at least that means that they were wrong.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-46488014025280218962008-02-18T01:46:00.003-05:002008-02-18T02:04:09.299-05:00This is from my for-reals, written down journal. It's green (the journal, not the entry).<br /><br />I was just thinking about summer camp, three and a half years ago. It was an acting camp, and i was thirteen years old and going into my freshman year of high school, the youngest age allowed to attend this particular summer camp. I was feeling pretty tiny. One day, we were reading a scene in which I was the younger sister denouncing my "older sister" (in reality, a Long Islander named Amanda whom I barely knew) for her incessant drug use. The director, a daytime soap producer with a scraggly mustache, kept telling me to make it real-er, to give more emotion, to show the magnitude of this exchange and I... just couldn't. I didn't know anyone who did drugs, I'd never had to plead with anyone who insisted, for whatever reason, to throw their lives away in such a cliched manner and turn into a cautionary tale, and urban legend, or a "local teen" in the town's newspaper. I just didn't have the proper experience. <br /><br />Now? Well I still don't personally know any bona fide addicts, unless you count a nearly forgotten childhood friend I see once a year at a family friend's Christmas party. Last I heard, that girl had run away from her boarding school for troubled youths in the Berkshires. <br /><br />I can, however, rattle off the names of quite a few casual drug users, nearly as many more-than-casual drug users, and a pretty good number of semi-alcoholics, many (if not most) of whom I can confidently call my closest friends. <br /><br />Maybe it's just the age. As mid-teenagers, we're first discovering who we are as actual people, not just as concepts or potential beings. And many of us, myself often included, cannot deal with that responsibility. We want to bury it under pharmaceuticals or wash it down with alcohol or burn it in a hastily rolled joint. Those are the people I worry about the most. The recreational, just for fun users don't scare me nearly as much as the escapists because the recreational users can basically stop whenever substance abuse ceases to be amusing, but the escapists can't rejoin reality without an intense and painful return trip.<br /><br />Would I be able to successfully act out that scene from three years ago with the experience I have now? Probably not. I've tried pot quite a few times, I've been drunk more often than I'd care to admit, but I just didn't like either of those experiences, no matter how many times I tried each of them, so I couldn't understand the desperation necessary to talk someone out of a chemical addiction. My personal form of escapism is more literal: I take walks, I ride my bike, I do as best I can as a teenager without a drivers license to physically separate myself from a father who expects too much and a mother who makes it abundantly clear that she can't stand either of us most of the time. It doesn't help much, and sometimes I think the chemical escape would be more effective, but it gets me to a place where I'm not screaming every hateful thought that comes into my unfortunately sober mind.<br /><br />Sometimes that just has to do, I guess.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-18651127301400099232008-02-16T21:10:00.003-05:002008-02-16T22:31:08.429-05:00My older sister Kathryn is the center of her universe and everyone else's. I can't help but feel ignored sometimes, but she acts as if it's justified; that her life is just so big and legendary that there's no room left for me in my insignificance. She isn't consciously self-absorbed or malicious about it, she just can't bring herself to care about a younger sister with no ludicrously hilarious or emotionally charged stories to tell. So, instead, I have to listen to her wax poetic about her ex-boyfriend, a continuing friend of mine (which, of course, causes no shortage of awkwardness) or her new boyfriend, a nineteen-year-old druggie on probation I haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting, or her numerous witty and glamorous friends who seem to fawn over Kate's every action and utterance. <br /><br />She reminds me of my younger sister Annie in that regard: the big language, the attitude that she's the star of her own play and everyone else is just trying to upstage her. However, my younger sister is six, and Kathryn is eighteen. Maybe it's middle-child syndrome or maybe it's just my own numerous neuroses coming to surface, but I sometimes wish that Kate could mature at least to the point of listening to anything I say.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-80078148680588059062008-01-24T18:46:00.000-05:002008-01-24T18:56:28.588-05:00Things most people don't know about meI have trouble falling asleep at night<br />I love the smell of honey<br />I get scared about silly things<br />I almost exclusively fall in love with people who are unavailable, emotionally or otherwise<br />I try my hardest to make people think I'm not trying too hard<br />I take pride in how intelligent I am, but downplay my intelligence any time anyone tries to acknowledge it<br />Sarcasm's my defense mechanism<br />My favorite food is pasta with pesto<br />I talk to my dog and my fish<br />I get unhappy when I can't listen to music for an extended period of time<br />I feel guilty about EVERYTHING<br />I'm crazy about someone who had a crush on me two years ago, but is dating someone else<br />I want to be in a decent, low-maintenence relationship with someone I legitimately like<br />My earliest memories are of dancing around with my mother in the basement to Michael Jackson, Midge Ure, and early Goo Goo Dolls<br />I used to hate being pale, but now I think it makes me look classy<br />I'm conflicted about growing my hair out<br />I have very few friends my own age. Everyone I'm really close to is older than I am<br />I love to write but rarely do it<br />I'm emotionally reserved<br />I act more dramatic than I am<br />I love my dog Buster more than anything else in the worldMarebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21604624.post-62451764289965762322007-10-05T21:33:00.000-04:002007-11-11T16:39:17.046-05:00I'm going to get in troubleHave you ever had one of those moments where you know something is going to go spectacularly wrong? I just did. I'm not even sure how to deal with it, so I'm just listening to calming music and trying to ignore my own neuroses. I'm probably just being paranoid.<br /><br />Aren't I?<br /><br />My (former?) best friends haven't been around lately. I mean, it's totally understandable. They go to public school, and I go to private school. They're seniors, and they're totally busy with college applications and enjoying their senior year and whatnot. I mean, I guess I'm pretty busy too, since junior year is the most academically stressful year and I'm taking AP classes and also SAT prep courses and also I'm applying to college early because I hate my town and I hate my school and I hate my scene and I want to be as far away as possible, so I'm trying to go to California since I currently live on the east coast, but they can't make time for me. I can make time for them, but it isn't my senior year. I wouldn't understand. It's not as if they're sick of me. Being completely anxious about everything ever isn't enough to get you excommunicated from ALL of your friends. <br /><br />It isn't, right?<br /><br />I'm not sure how to feel. Usually, I can handle these feelings of stress or nervousness and take them in stride. But right now, sitting at my laptop with my green clay facemask that makes me look like the swamp thing, in a pink, button-down pajama shirt with sheep on it and no pants (the shirt is four sizes too big), and my newly-short hair held back in a heinous headband that I only wear when I put on said green facemask, feeling friendless and scared of life, I'm not exactly brimming with confidence. <br /><br />I'm seriously usually not like this. I'm even known for being unflappable. I'm sturdy. I just joke about everything, and that means I'm okay with it. I guess I'm just in a weird mood.<br /><br />If anyone reads this, leave a comment? It's strangely comforting to know that complete strangers can see the thoughts I can't bring to mention to my best friends, parents, or sister.Marebearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06053017072330752805noreply@blogger.com1