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.

WOooOooow

Maybe i should have taken the my internet's server disconnection as a sign. But if you have something to say at 3:45 in the morning, and can still say in in the light of day...well, then it's worth sharing...

I always assumed that people who outwardly advertised their happiness were cruel...that they were inadvertently jabbing me with their smiles and laughter. Their success magnified my problems (I think that sentence is the definition of selfish, go look it up). I was used to the "if they're happy, i'm happy" crap, because overall i was happy (convincing, right?) but i was...really. But the "hey, i just got a B in physics" and the "I finally have my license" or even the "i'm having the best day...ever" thing was really starting to bring me down. Like 80% of me was jumping up and down, knowing they deserved it, and the other twenty was throwing a full-blown pity party (when i say party i mean a "my parents are away for the weekend party"[not that i know what that's like{wow, i just used brackets cause i have so many sub-thoughts...irony?}]).

So yeah, practically a pity rave. Sad, huh? But...I'm done. And most of me knows that I've been done for a long time (the twenty percent is just getting the Memo). haha...wow...wow. I finally figured out that happy people cannot help going unnoticed. Not because they want attention, but because you cannot contain happiness. Just like love, it is impossible to squeeze happiness into a box, or fold it into an ever-decreasing triangle. Happiness is odd. It sings and cries. It's loud, smelly, and misshapen. And best of all, happiness is shared.

That is why "I love my friends" should be written (in caps), and said (in a scream) instead of repeated inside your head. I LOVE MY FRIENDS. Only a friend would continue to read this and not think i was a wackjob. So friends...i'm gonna start sucking less. Yup, it's about time. But that means you have to make a promise. You have to promise to never leave me, because i will never leave you. And know that i won't judge you. And above all, open up. If you're a true friend i can know anything about you, not just anything but everything. I love how unfocused this thing is...and how hypocritical i am...but i'm sure you'll forgive me.

So here it is, in all its over-due, epiphany stained glory, a happy post.

It's Good to See You Again...

Large breaks are so awkward...giant stretches of complete silence. How do you resume like nothing ever happened?
I thought about just typing yunji. period. Or perhaps dirka, dirka. But maybe the best way to get back into the swing of things is to be completely spontane- BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHM.-ous. I love ice breakers...

well, i hope you enjoyed that. And if you didn't we need to hang out.

mama mama MAMA

now that im feeling better its time for a blog post...im gonna try to find something significant out of my sickness. i love lists so...

While i was sick, i learned that:

• if you want something done right, have your mom do it (my dad went to the grocery store so i asked for flinstone's push-ups, the one with dino on the cover, and he got finding nemo. they were delicious ( i had three in one day) but this leads me to my next discovery...
• finding nemo 50/50 < flinstones assorted (cherry, grape, orange...in order of the best flavors)
• my immune system has evolved (dayquil has no effect on me anymore). this also connects back to mom knows best cause my brother went to get more medicine (i used up all the dayquil/theraflu/tylenol) and he bought....DAYQUIL...liquid dayquil.
• hot is better for a sore throat than cold
• laughter is the best medicine...the only problem is sickness transforms laughter into a cough...try it, you'll start to laugh but then it contorts and strains into a heap of dry heaves

it feels good to get that out of my throat...