Sole Singer

when you're sad, do not sing "lucky"(Jason Mraz and Colbie Callait's duet, not Britney's ballad, which is probably slightly more pathetic). Don't attempt the guy's part and stay clear of the girl's too. In fact, duets should be illegal when you feel like crap. You should need a signed doctors note, and even then, only three songs, tops. I'd even go as far as outlawing singing altogether......i take that back.

I wish I could sing alone...i guess my point is: I'm an idiot, no debate, the end.

All Aboard!

sometimes my farts sound like train whistles...and by sometimes i mean twice today

He'll Never Fall In Love

listening to monkberry on loop...you should try it. Why i haven't listened sooner is insulting (is that enough music whoring, doris?). There's something hypnotic about hopping xangas. You find a an entry, check its comments, and follow the links to something new and personal. I'd like to give a special thank you to all of the brave, willing to expose their lives, however small or intentionally ambiguous the portion may be. The blog-xanga distinction is sad...some days i'd rather write about my whole day, get emo, or post something mysterious like, "I started to walk to your house a few days ago...I stopped. You were right, we're not that close." (which just so happens to be true) Meh, normalcy blows. This was my day, on on my terms:

Tasted sickness in my mouth throughout the night and felt throw-uppy this morning...I believe Wendy's has poisoned me (steer clear of the Baconator). Mom asked me if I wanted to stay home, but i had to pay for prom, plus free dress. I was late. School was...unnecessary, but I did enjoy the poem "Goblin Market" and Mr. Eastridge's pleasant mood was a relief. Badgering Frankie during lunch was too easy, on a sidenote, I make a incredibly awkward crossdresser. Things that can suck my kiss today: the filthy, lying cheater speech, my broken knee, uncomfortable physics feeling, and good-looking people..today was good though, well tonight was. Debut practice and rock band ruled, but no upper body strength or use of my left leg was a drag (someday I'll lift myself out of that empty hole.) Next was a slurpee/Imodium run. What would compel someone to pee in a bottle? Anyways, I was looking forward to seeing Ironman, but it'll have to wait another week. What followed is confidential...no place for a silly blog. Needless to say Moo is wise, diarrhea is runny, funny, I don't hate you, Taylor Swift is famous for a reason (she preys on your heartache and loneliness), and Meaghan and Jillian understand. The more i think about graduation and college, the less i care about life in general...searched for the moon while no one was looking, I couldn't find it. Wished i was the moon. Today, I listened. Really listened, sharing occasionally.

Hmm...let's see, description of my day as a whole? Check
instances of vague mysteriousness? Check
selfishly emotional rant? Check and check

Keybored

I want to rock. I wanna embarrass myself hardcore. I need Rock Band.

I was so desperate for music i played my cousins keyboard for a few hours. I remember tinkering with it when i was little. It had hundreds of settings; equipped with a catalogue of songs...I specifically remember hearing the Titanic song on loop (you know, the Celine Dion one) because its listed as 00 on the tracklist. It was no less haunting when i heard it today. The keyboard was lying in the bed of my dad's truck, covered in a thin film of dust. My uncle gave my dad a small donation of junk for his yard sale, but this keyboard, it was mine. I wiped it down and placed it on my desk (the one i've had for three years, and just started using last week. Recently, i've felt like cleaning things...old things. Giving use to the forgotten.) I pulled out the "All-in-One" Piano Lessons book my mom bought for me when i was ten and I practiced. The book was intended for children, but it was fun in a way. Still, drums are seven times more awesome.