close your eyes and i'll kiss you cause with the birds i'll share

"More lonely than alone."


I find a lot of relativity in that statement. (I probably used that word incorrectly. However, I lack the time nor desire to care enough to find out for sure.)

Today I went to Ally's house for the first time in months. Kristin, Gianna, and all the other Europe trip attendees left today. This week should turn out interesting. We watched the very beginning of 10,000 B.C. only to give up on it, and then watched Definitely, Maybe. I realized the full majesty of Nirvana's music and the power of Kurt Cobain's voice.

The other night, I spent a total of four and a half hours talking about life. Concepts like time, which we have only the word of others as proof, boggled our minds and amazed us as the thoughts poured out of our orifices. Philosophical statements blew out of our ears and into our minds where we kept them like a leftover cake, a mess beneath carefully applied saran wrap. Over the course of the day, or night--there is that time thing again, who's to say three in the morning is actually 'morning', rather than really late at night, or vice versa?--we unanimously decided that the things we never knew will not be missed, and order creates disorder.

There are two trees, one on Peter's front lawn, the other near Chris'. They have grown far beyond the others, the result of Darwin's theory of natural selection--only the tallest will reach the sunlight and thus, survive. Their branches, though, curl towards one another, reaching for each other, almost like the Sistine chapel's 'Christus Rex', the part with the fingers stretching. That blew my mind, for some odd reason.

Over the past few weeks, there have been numerous occasions during which I found myself strangely irritated by little things that certain people around me did. The first, I realized my penchant for pretty boys with the heart of true men. I discovered my annoyance for overly sensitive boys who constantly need their self-esteem stoked and stirred. Though sexist and old-fashioned, I believe that it should be the girl who is complaining about herself, if anyone is complaining at all. I'm all for confidence in my guys. Not overly cocky, nobody likes a big cockhead. However, between the two extremes, I would prefer overconfidence to complete self-hatred. As Brittany so eloquently put it, "If a guy thinks he's hideous, he probably is."

Well, this morning, I had an existential crisis, had people over for a brief time, then showered, and took a nap topless.

I'm trying to get my eloquence back.


I did really well on my report card, I'm extremely pleased with myself. Hah. I didn't think I'd be able to say that this year.








Once upon a time, there was a darling little girl who had a dream to be happily married. She wanted to have two kids, just as her parents did. She would wear a garland on her head and dress herself in white, spinning and twirling like she imagined a newlywed bride to. She carefully practiced walking to the tune of the wedding march and held a bouquet of artificial flowers in her little hands. She picked flowers in her backyard, kissing the petals and pretending they were her Prince Charming's. Her home transformed into a gated castle, her room was a tower, kept safe from harm by a magical barrier that she created with her meticulous imagination. She pictured a feast fit for a thousand, waltzes and pretty shoes. She wanted a band with every instrument in the world, and a beautiful glowing sunset behind her when she ran to their waiting 'Just Married' honeymoon getaway car. The little girl was full of happy scenarios and daydreamed her way through Disney movies--that is, if she wasn't sitting an inch away from the screen, reaching out and wishing she were the princess about to be swept off her feet. She dragged her four year old best friend, a sweet little boy who grew into a troubled man, and informed him of their marriage. He was oblivious, as most four year old males are apt to be, and agreed unconditionally to whatever she said. She misses that boy.

oh when i said i need you so much i was dead...

Yesterday was interesting. No lapses in judgment for me!
I've decided the area right between the beginnings of a buzz and full on tipsy is just wonderful.

Basically, there was plenty of actions that would certainly result in volatile reactions..
but, for once, none of those actions involved me, myself, or my reputation...













But it's summer. I'm certain that "I'm not involved" will become my motto of the season. I don't want to deal with a best friend who is so lost in her heartbreak and hopes that she can't see that it ended long before they even realized it themselves. I'm not going to lie, I am biased, I am rooting for one team more than the other and that might make me seem like a bad person, disloyal, even, but then again, it might just be karma.


I'm not one to get bitter, though. Well, at least not now.

I went shopping today with G. Well, I didn't really shop. We contributed to a greener earth while simultaneously saving gas money by taking the bus. It was definitely an experience. G got leered at left and right, one ogler even made contact. He had dirty fingers and yellowed teeth. Not exactly appealing.

The SAT II scores came in this morning. Jenn slept over, and we'd spent a good 3 hours discussing the pros and cons of the-thing-that-might-possibly-just-maybe-could-work. She left at 7 and I couldn't go back to sleep, so I sat myself down and waited. I ended up not checking them until 11 30. I didn't do as well as I'd wanted, but I'm not unhappy either. I got a 680 on both the chemistry and the world history. Certainly not spectacular by Asian standards, nor are they anything to brag about to the overachievers and future yuppies. However, my chem grade far surpassed the expectations I did not dare hold.

I also discovered this morning that I love checking scores. That's such an odd thing to say, I'm aware, but the anticipation is almost enough to provide an adrenaline rush.

Back to the incidents. As much as I'd like to say I'm not involved, I am. I am irrevocably, intrinsically involved. I have no idea what to say to any of the parties who are directly involved, but I do know that I have desire to be in the middle of a tangled web woven by other people. I'll weave my own, thank you very much.


Ugh, psychotic obsessive people are obnoxious.

Especially when they're not even drunk.

it only takes one moment to change your life forever. if it hasn't happened to you yet...it will.

I spent a total of $7.90 on movie rentals in the past two days.
First, there was crazy/beautiful. Recommended by a friend after my request for a "fucking cute" movie, I watched it and I got everything I had asked for. It was adorable. The lighting was a bit crazy, and I hated the fact that Dunst felt it was okay to never wear a bra, but other than that, it was touching. Cliche, maybe a little, Romeo&Juliet-like, yes, but absolutely well done.

Then, last night, I decided to get Bella. I've contemplated watching it more than once, and I must admit the summary is quite persuasive ("...a love story that goes beyond romance... a day in New York City changes three lives forever..."), the tagline is tantalizing ("One person can change your life forever"), and generically speaking, it was pretty similar to crazy/beautiful, only with the added element of pregnancy and carried the undertones of the abortion issue. I'm not a film buff, I really have no idea what I'm saying, but it was beautiful. I really loved it. The way it was filmed was beautiful, the actors' interaction with one another was flawless, and the story was adorable. It was bella.

Other than that, I've been dealing with a plethora of things. First of all, I got my body fat percentage measured, and I'm happy with the results. But I'm having trouble finding the right amount of motivation to keep myself going to the gym. I think there's something wrong if it takes more energy to change the seat height then actually doing the exercise. Next, the Incident still gets brought up, and that makes me a little mad. It's over. It doesn't have to be held against me forever. I don't mind the occasional dig, that's well deserved, but to transform it into some sort of justification of banning me from certain things is just ridiculous. I'm done with defending myself, though, I shouldn't have to so vehemently. It's done.

I sent a secret into PostSecret last week. It wasn't posted. I hung out with Brittany yesterday after the gym, and we spent two hours walking around and talking. She showed me all the spots where she learned how to love, and I told her at each spot that I wished I knew what she was talking about. I wished I could say I understood how she felt. But I don't. I can sympathize and emphasize all I want, but will I truly be able to relate? No. I have never fallen in love. I don't even know if I've come close. I know that my expectations for love are made too high and embedded into them are hopeless romantic ideals that reality cannot possibly provide. I feel numb to love, I feel like I've become hardened by the cute stories of other people that I don't remember how to feel truly touched without feeling a twinge of jealousy, of envy.

My seventh grade English teacher once explained the difference between jealousy and envy. She believed that to be jealous of someone was to be happy for them, whereas to envy another was to wish so much you had what they did, you almost wished to take it away from them. I do not envy the love my friends know. I am jealous of them. But sometimes, I'm afraid I'll start to envy them. I don't want that to happen.

Since I was a little girl, I was obsessed with love. I still am, I'm in love with the idea of love, and I want to feel every aspect of it. I want to feel the raw emotion that separates that kind of love from familial love.

I just watched Blue Lagoon. Brooke Shields has got a whole lotta eyebrow. Christopher Atkins in all his tan and blonde glory, though, hmmm.

There's a scrape on my leg from tire-burn that refuses to scab again. I hope it goes away. There's nothing eventful going on right now. The atmosphere is sunny with a hint of silence that I can't seem to fill. Tabby's picking me up in about ten minutes to go to Babylon village with Brittany. My sister went to the park, and she better be home by then because she doesn't have her key and I do NOT feel like dealing with that. There's a cute boy involved though, so I suppose I can cut her some slack.


--- EDIT ---

I went and helped with a scavenger hunt project yesterday. It was poignant, I suppose, and certainly an experience. I apparently have adapted Spanish characteristics to my physical appearance.

pouring alcohol on blisters

It is scorching out. This is weather that will make even the most skeptical believe in global warming. It's the kind of hot that feels like you're trapped in a box with no holes for air. Not quite humid, thank god, but stifling. It is SO hot, that I don't even feel like eating. My hair, my hair, is even feeling the effects. Usually, it's immune to the sun's displays of overly enthusiastic display of affection towards the upper East coast.
But today?

Yeah.

On the other hand, we are currently in the first of three days of the last three days of classes. This is a time that I thought, back in September, would never arrive. Just as I thought the track season would never end, or that cross country way back in fall, or the AP exams, or the SAT IIs, well, it's all come and gone, and another year has almost run its course. But not quite. There are still finals to take, all of which I have no intention of studying for, if only for the sole reason that I am so goddamn bored with school.

I met with my SAT tutor yesterday, after deciding that the last one was decidedly too patronizing, and thus, ineffective. The one yesterday, however, proved to be quite promising. As a tutor myself, I long ago realized that the way to get through to a child is praise. You do not, should not, can not, start off the session reprimanding their idiocy. Rather, you compliment their strengths, putting them on a pedestal. Then, you swiftly, carefully chip away at said pedestal until they are level with you. To them, however, they have already been lifted above mere mortals, and thus have such an idea stuck with them forever.

My love life is as dry as dirt in today's weather. It is insatiable, and ravenous. It is not being fed by anything more than a dim hope. I hope it rains soon.