Clever Girl Goes Blog: A late Christmas wish.

Clever Girl Goes Blog: A late Christmas wish.

Life's short, so live and love and eat whatever the hell you want.

Take the evil words bubbling in the pit of your stomach and exhale them. Take the nice thoughts you're thinking and release them into the air.

Do what makes you happy. Surround yourself with people who love you, and don't think twice about the people who don't.

You're a wonderful person, never let anyone make you feel otherwise.

It's sunny today, so I think I'll take a walk. Read a book under the oak tree in the park, and skip under the arches of the winter bare branches.

i'm a woman of action

On March 30th the moment I've been daydreaming in class waiting for will finally come.

John.Mayer

OMGGGGGGGGGGGG I KNOW!!

I'm not a raving, insane fan or anything. I've only mentioned him once. Or twice. Or three times. Or, anyways that's besides the point.

The point is that I have never been to a concert before. I know, I'm deprived. Blame my parents.

But this isn't just a concert to me. It's a first date chance to hear all the words in the bottom of my soul through the guitar. It's a chance to hear feelings, and see art, and for a few hours lose myself in the beauty of truly inspiring music. My parents, worrywarts that they are, are terrified to let me go. I don't know what they think could possibly happen at a JM concert. Maybe a deranged fan will choke me with her John Mayer tshirt?

Or smack me over the head with her guitar?

The point is I must go to this concert. It's vital.

And maybe in the back of my mind I've imagine us locking eyes through the haze and maze of people, and there will be something about me that won't allow him to look away. He'll croon the rest of the songs, not taking his eyes off me, and I'll nod my head because I also feel the connection between us. And then when his concert is over he'll find me, and even if he thinks I look a little young I'll assure him that I am perfectly barely legal, and that age is nothing but a number.

Because what are numbers in the face of true love?

pool and purpose

Yesterday my mom's boss had a holiday party at her house, and since my mother didn't want to go alone she asked me to come, and since I didn't want to go alone (I know wtf. why are we so needy?) I asked my friend D. to come. (More on her later).

And at first it was extremely awkward if you consider the fact that on the Age Spectrum that goes from 0 to 100 me, D, and my mother are closer to Zero, while all her coworkers (or the majority of them) are closer to 100.

She's young, don't tell her I said that or she'll go on about it for weeks.

My mother was completely in her element, I'm guessing that's why she ditched us, but that's another story.

Me and D. filled our plates with shrimp and cheescake (what!? It's all going to the same place!) and sat in a corner by ourselves whispering about what all the old ladies and men were wearing. What?! I told you, I was closer to 0!

My mom's boss has a daughter who is only a year younger than us, and this daughter has a boyfriend, and we started talking to them after we got sick to death of being asked how school was going, and what our purpose in life was.

And they were nice! And we ended up having fun, and I ended up embarrassing myself by attempting to play pool. I'm actually a pro at pool, I was just a little rusty ;)

Fine. You're right.

I'll admit it:

I don't know how to play pool. I fail at life.

See, I thought it was going to be like in the movies. Insanely hot girl walks in, grabs pool cue and holds it like a natural, leans forward gracefully as opposed to banging elbow on edge of pool table, her lustrous, wavy, silky hair cascades down her back, and everyone can't help but envy how jet black it is (this actually happened, give or take a few adjectives), and the striped ball plummets into the pocket.

Let me just tell you, it was nothing like in the movies.

decisions, decisions

First day of winter break started out AMAZING! If you ever need a slave housekeeper, I am more than qualified.

Not that I'm complaining or anything.

It's just that Blair Waldorf probably never had to wash dishes.

Not that Blair Waldorf exists.

Anywho.

On the Macy's website I noticed this beautiful, fabulous, gorgeous jacket, and my heart skipped a beat. Literally. And then I realized it was 75 bucks (give or take a dollar or two). And I remembered that I was supposed to be saving money. But then I realized that life is short, and that when life hands you an opportunity, you must take it. Plus, I spend at least 75 bucks a week month on food.

Fellow interneters, when happiness (or a fabulous coat) is within reach, seize it with both hands. Life is short, winter only comes once a year, so spend do what makes you happy :]

lalalalla tis the season and all....

sigh of relief

things i like love:

WINTER BREAK :), real friends, good books, being warm, hot chocolate, junk food, family time, no homework, being done with math FOREVER! the calm after the storm, everything falling into place, thursdays that feel like fridays, and weekends that last forever<3

Happy winter break, everyone :]

"you carry people. you carry me." hey chuck bass, carry me, please!

Best. Gossip Girl. Episode. Ever.

True, that is an hour (well, more if you count how many times I had to rewind and rewatch...) that I could have spent studying for my Political science final tomorrow, but I HAD to watch it.

Gossip Girl is much more than a TV show for me. It's a part of my schedule. I wait all week for Mondays at nine o'clock. It's the highlight of my life. And I know it goes against everything I believe in, and I am just another victim of society's use of the media to dumb down the masses, but I don't care.

And after watching Chuck Bass Gossip Girl last night I have realized just how incomplete my life is. If you don't watch Gossip Girl, I feel so, so, so, so sorry for you. You are like someone who has only showered their entire life, and never known the luxury of a bath. Like someone who has only ever worn shoes from Payless, and never tried on owned a pair of Louboutins in a Saks fitting room.

(Hey CW, you should hire me!!!!)

And most of all, you are missing out on Chuck Bass. To be honest, he's the only reason I watch the show. His character's so deeply flawed, but saved, he's grown so much in two seasons, he's it's beautiful.

Damn you, Josh Schwartz. You have ruined me for real life.

vent

finals week is the worst week of the entire year. after spending an entire term barely toeing the line, finals week is the week that all my procrastination catches up to me, and leaves me choking and gasping for air.

literally.

i wish i didn't have to cram, but i do. i wish i didn't have fifty billion chapters to read in the books that are still in the bags that i bought them in, but i do.

i wish i could say i have learned my lesson, but i haven't.

and i wish i could say i will never do this again, but i will.

fml.

rebirth

Nothing I want to say ever comes out right.
The words get stuck in my throat, get caught in the tiny crevices of my teeth, and never see the light of day. Spit or swallow. Nine times out of ten I will swallow, and the words make their way back down my body, and churn uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach.
I am not as graceful as I imagine, or as confident.
Sometimes I sit in my seat in class and contemplate getting up to throw something away, or use the bathroom for ten whole minutes. I don't why I do this, I just know that I do, and I wish I didn't.
I am not as good at casual conversation as I appear to be. While you're talking, and I am nodding my head, I am racking my brain for what to say next.
The bottom line is I am a lot of things, and I am not a lot of things, and this chasm is ripping me apart at the seams.
At night when I lay my head on my pillow, the person I will one day be runs rampant through my dreams.
But one day is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and when you try and touch a rainbow it slips between your fingers.
I am real. I am not someday, or somewhere.
I am here. I am now. And that's more than enough.
<3

count blessings, not birthdays

it's my birthday tomorrow (:

and to be honest, it's a little anticlimactic. It seems like everyone else is more exited than I am. Maybe it's because I have my English final tomorrow. Blagh, which me luck. Not that I need it or anything. *knock on wood*

Anyhow, it's the dawning of an era, the coming of age of a girl, and way past time to cut the dramatics.

Here's to another year of being fabbbbbulous(:

here's to growing left, right, and forward.

here's to another year of stupid mistakes, and lessons learned the hard way.

here's to the end of fall term, and the beginning of winter.

here's to snow days and hot chocolate by the fire place.

for every one who reads this, here's to you.

thank you for listening.

thank you for reading.

you're beautiful<3

spew

uncertainty is a bitch.
word.

on a lighter note, the quarter's almost over, which means i'm one step closer to graduation, one step closer to finishing the book i've finally started writing, one step closer to finding the answers, one step further away from the nothing that is now.

goodnight<3

come out and play

i've spent too long hiding in my mother's closet, trying on her long winter jackets and walking in the heels she never wears.
i'm realizing summer is over. winter is here, and i must buckle down and get to work.
reality is calling, and i can't put it on hold any longer.

realizations on a rainy day

Sometimes I want to lay out all the pieces of myself on a table for you to see. I'm a rainbow, a run on sentence or two, your last piece of gum. The best listener. A raving bitch (I'm working on being less 'bitch' and more 'raving')

On any given day I am the fifth chapter in your favorite book. Known to you, but nothing to anyone else without the beginning and end.
Blue and red make purple (if i remember correctly), but I cannot be blue and red and purple all at the same time, yet I still want you to know I can be all three.

There are two sides to every story, a million sides to a girl, and I wish I could show you them all at once, but I can't.

I am the sum of my past, my mistakes, my favorite books, my workout playlist, and the cheesecake I ate too much of for dessert.

But then I realize that I am only human. That I can only wear one face at any given time. That I am a lot of things, and that you will see this with time.

But most importantly, that I have nothing to prove.

good things don't come easy

I want to go to a park, lay in the grass, and see princesses and unicorns among the clouds. I want to see them and believe they're there. I don't want to pretend.
I want to write the book that's been floating around in my head for seventeen years, and I want you to read it. More than that, I want it to punch you in the gut. I want you to feel it.
I want to go for a run and feel the runner's high people are always talking about.
I want to buy my mother a house one day. A house with lots of windows that let the sunshine in, and a huge fireplace that will warm her while she watches Arabic sitcoms.
I want to be the best daughter, the best sister, the best friend.
I want to talk on the phone for hours and catch up, without once racking my brain for what to say next.
I want to get hopelessly lost without being hopelessly afraid.
I want to be able to give directions when I'm asked for them.
I want to know where I'm going.
I want to play video games with my little brother for a few hours, and jump on the bed with Ilyas until the springs break and all that's left is the mattress and the sweat and the rubble of remembrance.
I want to sleep outside and not miss my bed. I want to be okay with not knowing. I want to be comfortable in the dark. I want no more nightmares.
I want a bookshelf that reaches the heavens that holds all the books I've ever read, and all the books I want to read. I want someone to read beside me.
I want to read a poem to an audience, and I want them to know that I have given them a piece of me.
I want to buy ridiculously expensive shoes. I want to join the Peace Corps. I want to save the world.
I want to be girl that the song is about. I want someone to write poems about me, but then again I don't. I want to be the girl that can't be captured in words.
I want to take a road trip with no destination but away, and nothing but a full tank of gas and people that make me laugh.
I want to ride a Vespa down the streets of Italy. Write a story in a cafe in France. Backpack through Europe. Take a soul vacation.
Wear a hat without looking silly. Never take the bus again. Make the rules. Meet a boy. Be okay with being vulnerable. I want to play for keeps, and not just for the win.
Learn how to speak another language. Live in New York for a summer, move before it starts to rain.
I want to stop losing things, or maybe just lose less things. Replace those special earrings that I lost long ago. Find a way to go back in time, and then decide not to because I like where I am. Remember everything. Never forget. Smile and mean it. Find God and seek redemption. Wear hijab. Ask for advice.

I want to sing whenever I want, wherever I want, whatever I want, and as loud as I want. It would mean the world to me if you sang along.

What do you want?

so dip your pen in blood, and write

i write because i don't know how else to make you understand me.
don't look me in the eyes when i talk, or i will look away.
i don't know how else to show you that i am here, that i am real, that i have something to say, that i need you to listen...
so look at the words spilling across the page, dancing across the page, reaching up and choking you because they are so full of meaning.
this is for the poetry jotted down on post it notes. this is for the love letters you keep in the box under your bed, too afraid to send. this is for the conversations carried out in bathroom stalls, that no one can understand but the reader and the writer.
this is for you.

get well soon

Procrastination is a disease. A serious, serious disease. The poor, poor victims of this disease are too often blamed for being lazy, when they are in fact, very, very sick. There are many horrible side effects of procrastination, including but not limited to:
- Lack of sleep
- Sudden onset of stress
- Lack of sleep
- Skin problems from lack of sleep
- Crankiness from lack of sleep
- Falling asleep in class and getting yelled at because of lack of sleep

Is there a Procrastinator's Anonymous or something?
If so please let me know. If not please let me know so I can start one.
I'm always looking for shit to put on my college apps.
The ones I haven't started yet.

the stranger i know best

Your probably don't want to be judged on your past anymore than I do, but it's becoming very difficult to keep from sneaking glances over my shoulder.
I don't like the picture being painted behind me. I don't want to judge you on who you were, but I no longer know who you are.

You're a stranger to me, all rolled R's and sounds I can't make at the back of my throat.
When you find your way, come back to me.

take me somewhere that isn't nowhere

Take me back to kindergarten- to nap times, and barbie dolls, free snacks, and no worries.

As I sit here on this time worn couch, I wish I could go back to before the outside world came flooding in, and erased any delusions I may have had about the way things might one day be.

Reality is never as good as you picture it in your head. It's never neat or framed or pretty.

I am on the border between past and present, stuck in a grey area, doomed by own incompetency to live.

I got off the train two stops too early, and now I am nowhere. Unable to run and catch up, unable to distinguish up from down, here from there, I am afraid.

I have realized that the absence of something weighs more than its presence, silence is louder than the marching band, and who you were matters more than who you want to become.

I'm alone, she told me.

I said, sister, you're preaching to the choir.

tell me something about myself

there's something about the way meeting new people makes me feel.
new friends are like the first day of school, the best hair day of your life, and obama all at the same time.

if you're reading, i want to meet you.
who knows, you might be my new best friend, love, enemy, soul sister, brother from another mother, or angel in disguise.

i'll give you a chance, if you give me one.

sometimes i'm not enough

my shoes are old and worn from walking to nowhere and back a million times.
i am lost, and i cannot remember which road leads home.

you're beautiful

you're quite lovely in the glare from the television.

hi stranger

i fail at blogging.

my apologies

time flies

pinch punch first day of the month.

school starts in 22 days.

or 23, possibly 24. i don't really keep up with these things.

a bouquet of forget-me-nots

if you ask me what i am most afraid of i would tell you it's forgetting.

people are afraid to die, afraid to live, afraid to live, but i, i am afraid to forget.

are we not defined by our memories? by our experiences?

and the older i get the more of these that slip through the cracks in my fists, like sand.

i can't chase after them. i can't get them back.

i am nothing without my history.

i cannot build a future on shaky ground and patchwork memories.

i have already begun to forget, so tell, how will the world remember?

.

sometimes you just have nothing to say.

and sometimes you have a whole lot to say, but you can't find the right words.

Part 2

6. People can change

7. Don't talk crap over text messages because you will send the wrong thing to the wrong person

8. People who count calories are annoying

9. Don't wear white on your period

10. When you're mother tells you a girl is bad news, she's usually right

the things i've learned

1. The road returning home is always half as long as the road leaving home. Home is like a magnet, it pulls you closer and draws you in.

2. ID pictures, weather it's a school ID, a license (WHICH I NOW HAVE BTW!!!), or a passport are always ugly. Do not judge a girl by her ID card because she always looks ten times better in real life.

3. You can love someone without liking them in the least.

4. Sneaking out is a lot harder then it looks in the movies.

5. You shouldn't wear a purple shirt when you have purple streaks in your hair, or else you run the risk of looking like a clown.

"Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood."

Helen Keller

I may not know much, though on any given day I may act like I know it all, but by God's grace I am learning.

long road nowhere

tomorrow morning's my license test.
yes, yes it's the third time, but you know what they say:
third times a charm.
i'm an optimist, you see. i choose to ignore the fact that they also say
three strikes you're out.
wish me well, world.
good night<3

be my friend today

Hello World :)
It's been dark lately, but today the sun is out and I will take a deep breath and look for the beauty in every little thing. I have been sitting around all summer waiting for something extraordinary to happen, but I have realized that you have to actively look for the extra in the ordinary.
It's a beautiful world outside my window, and although there is dirt and dried blood behind its facade, I'm okay with pretending. The sun has come out to play, and please excuse me while I join it.

"Staring at the blank page before you
open up the dirty window
let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
reaching
for something in the distance
so close you can almost taste it
release your inhibitions..."

natasha beddingfield "Unwritten"

Yahoo questions make me feel better about myself

If you can't see this is what it says:

I'm really in a weird situation because I feel like I'm in love with someone I don't even know (a really really famous celebrity) or at least infatuated with them. At the beginning I used to always use to be on his fan site but I stopped recently. Still I find myself thinking about him all the time and I can't help myself. Whenever I hear a rumor he is dating someone my heart stops and I feel really heartbroken (as silly as it sounds). I hate this but I know that this is more than a crush. I feel like I am a realistic person and even though I tell myself it will never happen I feel like I secretly feel like we will eventually be together. HELP this is really getting out of hand!!!!! Thank You

Dear Girl Asking Silly Question,

It is very disturbing/refreshing to realize that there are people like you out there. Even though I am quite head over heels for Chuck Bass/Nate Archibald/Dan Humphrey there is a fundamental difference between me and you. You are insane, and I am pretty sure that you have no chance with whatever celeb you're crushing over. I on the other hand merely lack transportation. It's a little difficult to introduce yourself to somebody when you're on opposite sides of the country. I know for a FACT that if I were to run into any of the Gossip Girl boys they would be as in love with me as I am with them. Trust me. It's practically a done deal. I advise you to move on and get a life. You're actually kind of pathetic in a completely endearing way. So sorry to be so blunt.

Take care!

i'm supposed to be somewhere else.

What do you do when you know you're meant to be doing something else?

When you know you're meant to be someone else, but you can't because of circumstance. Because even though you are someone you aren't supposed to be, and even though it feels like someone got the order completely wrong, you can't do anything about. You take the dream of who you wanted to be and put it under your pillow, and bring who you are out to play, and deal with the shortage.

It is easy enough to theoretically say damn the consequences, but much harder to mean it. Almost impossible. Getting up and leaving who you are will only leave a hole in the hearts of the people who thought they knew you.

The path not taken is calling my name, and it is taking all of my will power to turn the other way and pretend I don't hear it.

They say some girls are born with glitter in their veins, and I know it's true because I feel it. What do you do when you're shining so bright, but the whole world is looking the other way?

Where am I?

Messiah Complex: not just the general wish, but an overt or covert desire to redeem the world or to improve the conditions of the world. The messianic wish is not merely a general wish for improved conditions and for changes for the better, but the wish of that private person to become personally the redeemer of the world.

thehope.org

So I want to save the world. Whatever. It's not like I've made any progress. So sometimes I just stop thinking. I give up and I think, The world is full of nearly six billion people. Why the hell am I the only one who can save the world? Let somebody else get off their lazy ass and do it. And then I feel bad. Then I feel worse so I put on my headphones and blast music until I can't hear the rest of the world and my thoughts pool into a jumbled mess that I can't follow. Or I get under my covers and watch Gossip Girl. Either way it's escape. Sometimes I wish my life were a story I was writing, and I could erase myself and plunk myself down a few chapters from now. Create some drama, some suspense, some life. I sit and daydream sometimes about all the different ways my life could go and it makes me wonder, how did I get here?

How do any of us get where we are, really? We're all walking around in a haze, and I am coming out of stupor. I am coming out of stupor, but all I want is to go back to sleep. When it comes to realization and oblivion one will always choose the latter.

But me, I have chosen neither. I am in an inscrutable shade of gray... I am on the path that takes you from nowhere to somewhere but I've stopped walking and now I don't know which path leads where anymore.

Virtue is its own punishment

Up above the surface i was just a perfect child
But underneath it all i was craving to be wild
Don't you judge by the cover it's so far from what you see
I'm losing all my patience waiting on ya to believe
I'm suffocating, i can't breathe
Let me out this cage, i'm not gonna hold back
Gonna break these chains, i'm taking control now
Gonna giva ya something to talk about
It's another side of me
I'm acting out
Ashley Tisdale

This isn't what I wanted. This isn't what I wanted. This isn't what I wanted.
I'm drowning in this routine. What do you do when your bags are packed to go off on a great adventure, but the flight never arrives. It's lost midway between your discarded dreams and the world you'll never know. And that one flight, you just know it's the answer to everything. It will take you away from here and that's all that matters. If you don't get on that flight you don't know what you'll do because you may not know much, but you know you can never go back.

This summer was supposed to be about sunshine, best friends, being young and pretty and having fun. Instead summer handed me a bouquet of wilted flowers and slammed the door in my face without inviting me in.
Maybe next year.
But truth be told I am damn tired of waiting.

Happy 100th

Sometimes I feel like I'm too big for my house, too big for this damn city, too big for my own tiny head. I feel like a can of soda left in the freezer that then explodes from all the pressure inside itself. Sometimes I feel like it's all too much. I miss kindergarden, and nap time, and doing what I was told. Well, not really because I was never very good at doing what I was told. But as summer draws to a close and senior year looms ever closer, I'm scared because it's all coming too soon.

I'm pulling myself apart, part of me wants to get up and go running towards the future without ever looking back, and part of me wants to get in bed, squeeze my eyes shut and force time back by the sheer strength of my memories.

So scared of getting older
I'm only good at being young
So I play the numbers game

To find a way to say that life has just begun

Stop this train, I wanna get off and go home again...

I can't take the speed its moving in

"Stop This Train" by John Mayer

And I guess we all learn that we can't stop the train, not ever. It's heading towards its destination and it stops for no one. All you can do is whisper sweet nothings in the ear of the conducter and try and coax it into a direction of your choosing. And one day it will stop, force you off into the great perhaps, and that's that. I hope when I get off the train, I hope when you get off the train, we'll be in a good enough place to build our futures.

Thank you for reading. Happy 100th post :)

My daddy he is grounded like the oak tree
My momma she is steady as the sun
Oh, you know I love my folks
But I keep starin' down the road
Just lookin' for my one chance to run
Hey, cause I will soar away like a blackbird
I will blow in the wind like a seed
I will plant my heart in the garden of my dreams

And I will grow up where I wander wild and free

Born to Fly by Sara Evans

your absence is a presence I feel, so writing letters eases the ache and makes it feel like you're here

two posts in one day :) just because

Dear Law and Order SVU,
I'm hooked to your show, I've watched every single episode at least twice. Well, that's an exaggeration but you know what I mean. You have scarred me for life. I'm terrified of being outside alone because I am afraid that everyone on the street wants to rape me. It's absolutely horrifying to walk down the street and think that everyone who makes eye contact with or accidentally bumps into me has just sexually assaulted me. But it's okay.
Better safe than sorry right?

Dear Gardisal,
I don't give a damn about cervical cancer right now. All I know is that I refuse to get another shot. I hate shots, okay. They are painful and unnecessary because who the eff even gets leprosy anymore? So no, no, no, no, no thanks. Take your little finger snapping, hand clapping, one less commercials and go.

Dear John Mayer,

Write a song about me please? I know you're afraid that people will think you're creepy since your thirty something and well, I'm only seventeen. But I will be eighteen in a few months and then, it'll be okay. We will be okay. I'm not some crazy fan, I swear. I think maybe I actually might love you. And for a girl like me, love don't come easy. And I realize that the media makes you seem kind of like a manwhore/douchebag, but to be completely honest? I don't care. No one's perfect, well with the exception of me, but come on. We have to be realistic here. Not everyone can be me. So I will look past all your imperfections if you will play me a story on your guitar and sing me to sleep.

i invite you inside my head

It's the middle of the night. Actually it's very early morning, and I'm not the least bit tired.
I wonder how many other people are lying in bed awake thinking at the speed of light. I wish I could reach out with my thoughts and sneak into your head and keep you from being lonely because it's lonely in the middle of the night, when all I have are my thoughts to keep me company. How amazing would it be if we could invite people into our heads when we're sick and tired of ourselves.

you are a victim of the rules you live by

Society is a product, like Coke or Starbursts.

And unless you want to be a product of society, you gotta get up the nerve to say "Hey. I don't like it, so I'm not buying," despite of all the pressure.

And it's hard to do, I know, but you gotta do it anyways.

I know they told you there were no refunds, no returns, but they lied.
You can exchange your carbon copy life for another. For one that doesn't come prepackaged and assembled, but in a hundred different pieces that you have to put together yourself. And you may get it wrong some, a few, many times, but that's all part of the path not taken.

Let's be entrepreneurs, and discover the unknown... together.

That's the best part of the entire thing:

once you return your defected life, you no longer have to be alone.

They sell the new ones in twos and threes and fours and families.

Isn't that great?

fly away birdy, the open sky beckons you come hither

Sometimes I think that everyone's stupid and I'm the only person around with any kind of sense. No one thinks for themselves, no one dresses the way they want, everyone is content drawing within the lines. I want to scream in the middle of the night when it's quiet, listen when it's loud outside, sit on the roof and count the cars that go by, write my name on my bedroom walls with permanent pen..

And I think maybe I'm crazy because all the people I know do what they're told, nod absently, laugh politely.

I want to listen to what you're saying and shake my head when I disagree.

I want to laugh out loud and maybe even snort a little when you say something funny.

I want to live without abandon, love without abandon, do everything completely.

Let's kick off our shoes and run through the parking lot. Let's cut our hairs and play like little boys. Let's turn up the heat and open all the windows, and mix sugar in our milk.

Let's bring the me and you we keep under pillows out to play, and slip into the skin we hide from the rest of the world. Let's be who you and me want to be, and let's give them back the people they made us.

purples the color of royalty i hear!

I PUT PURPLE IN MY HAIR!!!
for any other teenager in the world this is a perfectly normal thing to do. ummm, hello have you seen anything i've ever written?
my mother is uber conservative, uber traditional, uber everything i'm not.
so i did it.
granted, it was just my bangs, but it made me feel good! Like I was, i don't know, living?! I may regret this in a week or so but oh well. At least I did it.
Ahaaaahaha, I know I sound lame, but you know that's why you love me :)
Chase your dreams! Dye your hair, change your wardrobe, cut your bags.
Do whatever you want, and who cares what they say.
At the end of the day, you only answer to yourself.
Don't go to sleep with a heart full of unanswered questions and a pocket full of unchased dreams.
Good night world :)

the great perhaps and other things

i finished reading tuesdays with morrie, and i would really appreciate it if you would read it.
there are a handful of books that will rock you to your core, cut you open so deeply and force you to analyze whats inside of you, and this is one of those books.
it made me realize that i want to be something more. i have taken a zillion breaths and a billion steps to nowhere and back, and i still don't know where i'm going.
you want to know why i started blogging?
because i'm terrified of being forgotten. i am terrified that once i die people will mourn me for a few months, and then i will only come up in casual conversation around the holidays. and then after that not at all. it will be like i never existed.
i don't want to be forgotten. i am so scared that i will live only to realize once i'm dying that I never truly did. i want to get up off my lazy ass and make my dreams come true, but to be completely honest i wouldn't even know where to start.
so i stay here in my head where it's comfortable and safe, and i never venture out.

no comment

What do you write about when you have nothing to say?

goals

I have a new summer goal because I gave up on the old one and I can never follow through on anything.
I want to be published.
There, I've said it out loud, and that is one step closer to actualization. Because when you turn thoughts into words you turn them into possibilities.
Chase your dreams, fellow internetters!
Happy day-after-fourth-of-july :)

by the way

I hate myself for it.

Follow me into the dark?

http://twitter.com/publishmylovee

heavy footsteps

I hate feeling like there is so much to do and not doing anything.

I don't like it here anymore.

This house is too small for me, and the walls, the purple painted walls, are closing in on me.

Back up. Please back up. I am not ready for such discontent.

Leave me to my own devices.

The windows taunt me, the door calls to me, and the road beckons my feet come closer.

It's that easy.

Walk off into the sunset, hitchhike your way to freedom, and don't look back.

Carry your past in your heart. I cannot promise you that you will not miss it because you certainly will. Even as you march on to freedom your footsteps will be heavy with the weight of what you have left behind.
Choose wisely, little one.

There are no second chances.

Revelations over late night Ramen

I'll be a senior in high school next year, but it isn't the right of passage you think it is. On account of the whole early college thing and all.

The thing is that next year I'll be applying to universities as a transfer student with two years of college already under my belt.

I never thought college was an option. You graduated high school, you went to college, you got a job, end of story. But I'm begining to question everything lately, and I'm wondering why I have to follow the same road as everyone else.

There is more to life than SAT scores, and Intro to Lit classes. Academia is an institution we have created to make ourselves feel important.

Why do we pour our entire lifesavings into an institution of higher learning? What is it we learn in college that is so damn important anyways?

Traveling the world, interacting with people of different cultures, reading books seem like more logical ways of learning about our world.

College shrinks the world down into a powerpoint presentation and a million useless theories.

Theory without experimentation will get you nowhere in life.

College is overrated.

And I am so glad I finally realized this.

Mind you, this dosen't mean I won't be attending college.

This just means I'll be able to be cynical about it if I decide to go.

My mother says this is the argument stupid people make that are fully aware of the fact that they will never get into college.

I just thought I'd point out that I am far from stupid.

where is now.

it's eleven o clock, and i just got back from california.
i'm tired, but i can't fall asleep, and i think i might be turning into an insomniac of sorts.
Micheal Jackson is dead and even though I didn't care for him too much, the loss of a person's life is a loss of innocence to the living.
I have realized that life is precious, and that above all else it is temporary.
It isn't ours to keep.
It's like a library book that you check out and have to return to before you can finish it.
I make my fair share of mistakes, and my mother would argue that I've made plenty more, but I can always learn from them. Fix them. Put it behind me, in the past, and look towards tomorrow.
Death isn't like that. You can't die and say oh my bad, let me tell everyone I love them and go to Italy like I always wanted to, and then when I die for real I'll be ready.
When you die, you cease to be.
Life stops at death.
Your past is irrelevant, the word future will no longer be used in conjunction with your name. When you die, your death defines you.
Every breath I take brings me one step closer to my grave.
We are all, essentially, dead men walking. Ahem. I forgot that I was trying to be a feminist. What I meant was dead woman walking. Or dead people. Whatever. You get it.
So do me a favor.
Take that art class you never found time for. Call up the girl you're thinking about and tell her how you really feel. Sing in front of a crowd. Splurge.
Michael Jackson may be dead, but we are alive.
We might as well live.

Lists help me pretend I'm organized

I hate to say this is a list of thing to do before I die because that sounds incredibly morbid.
So let's call this a life list! Make your own, and be sure to let me know what you put on yours :)
Have a beautiful day!

1) Go to Mekkah
2) Spend a year abroad
3) Crash a wedding
4) Visit all 50 states
5) Write a book and get it published
6) Send a message in a bottle
7) Write a letter to the editor
8) Lay in bed all day
9) Sleep outdoors
10) Attend the Olympics
11) Skydive
12) Go skinnydipping
13) Hug someone random
14) Ride a camel in the desert
15) Be in the audience of a famous TV show
16) Sing in front of a large audience
17) Be in a play
18) Be a mentor
19) Shower in a waterfall
20) Start a youth group
21) Sleep under the stars
22) Pet a dog without being scared
23) Get a job
24) Save money instead of spending it
25) Scuba dive in Australia
26) Get in a Hot air balloon
27) Fall in love
28) Kiss a stranger
29) Visit all seven continents
30) Swim with dolphins
31) Go on an African Safari
32) Run a 10K race
33) Go to a college frat party
34) Read the entire Quran
35) Travel the Nile
36) Kiss in the rain
37) Kiss on the top of a ferris wheel
38) Do something nice for someone I don't even know
39) Go to Mall of America
40) Donate blood
41) Attend a peace rally
42) Attend a protest
43) Participate in a real debate
44) Learn how to drive
45) Get my license
46) Pass the AP Language exam
47) Get a B in chemistry
48) Pass a chemistry test the first time
49) Tryout for a sport
50) Workout and enjoy it
51) Go on a trip without parents
52) Get my bellybutton pierced
53) Stop connecting physical appearance with self worth
54) Say what I’m thinking
55) Tell the truth
56) Hold hands with someone
57) Read a Shakespearian drama
58) Read Socrates
59) Make a new friend
60) Stop myself from yelling
61) Tell the people I love that I love them
62) Find a best friend forever
63) Stand up for someone else
64) Host a party
65) Have a party in my honor
66) Slap someone
67) Have a song written about me
68) Inspire someone
69) Be inspired
70) Flirt shamelessly
71) Go to New York
71) Figure out what I want to do with my life
72) Finish what I start
73) Stop judging people
74) Drink more water
75) Get married
76) Go on a roadtrip with no predetermined destination
77) Find God
78) Keep in touch
79) Be more outgoing
80) Take a photography class
81) Take an acting class
82) Learn how to play guitar
83) Perform at a karaoke bar
84) Go to a masquerade
85) Be someone's bridesmaid
86) Dance in the rain
87) Get lost in California
88) Use SoCal in a sentance without sounding ridiculous
89) Get 100 followers on my blog
90) Be nice
91) Be vulnerable
92) Stop caring about what people think
93) Make a complete fool out of myself
94) Fly an airplane
95) Join the Peace Corps

To each his own

I'm leaving tomorrow, but I'm feeling antsy.
I want to do something meaningful with my life. Does that sound incredibly corny?
It's like this.
I left high school because I was tired of all the useless, and to be honest, stupid teenagers, doing absolutely nothing with their lives. Nobody cared that there was a world outside the four brick walls of our high school. Or maybe nobody knew.
But I knew. And I wanted to go out there and discover it. I want to be a part of it, and it to be a part of me. I want to speak languages, and visit countries, and all the famous art museums, and read all the classics.
I want to write novels, and read novels, and make friends, and find love. Not with a boy, but with people in general.
I have so many ideas, most of them relevant to no one but me, but I want to go out into the world and talk about them.
I want to join the peace corps, and save Africa, and I'm scared.
Scared that at the end of the day I'll be left with nothing more than expectations and empty dreams.
I have a suitcase full of ideas, and I'm always on vacation in my head. And it's lonely in here sometimes.
The weight of my own expectations and hopes and dreams, are beginning to weigh me down, rather than lift me up, and I feel my knees starting to buckle.
The future is a scary thing, and as spontaneous as I am, not knowing what's in store terrifies me.
That's a lie.
I'm not scared of what's in store for me. I'm scared that at the end of it all I'll end up disappointed.
Disappointment is worse then sadness, worse then anger...
Disappointment is believing something you're whole life and discovering it was a lie. It's packing for months on end for a vacation you never go on. It's an empty space in your stomach that will never go away.
I don't know.
Anything, to be honest. Nobody does, yet that provides little comfort.
I used to think I knew it all.
I used to think if I tried hard enough, and stayed in school forever minus a day, I would know it all, but I'm realizing that Life is a subject that they don't teach you in school. There's no Future 101, and no surefire tips to success.
We're all stumbling around in the dark, turning on lights only to discover they've burned out long ago... tripping on broken hearts and lost dreams, grabbing hold of the nearest hand, letting go before they let go first, hoping that we're going the right way.
Because you never know.
There are infinite roads, and infinite paths, and to each his own.
I hope you find the light.
I hope you end up alright.

Making Magic with Words

It's funny how you can find you can find your hero on youtube, idly looking through music videos of Beyonce shaking that thannggg.
Have you heard of Anis Mojgani?! He's a spoken word poet, and frankly, he's a freaking genius. His way with words makes me fall in love.
It might take some time for you to adjust to so watch this first:

WASN'T THAT AMAZING?!!!
You liked it ? Now watch this.
And please listen to it all. The second one is brilliant, it makes me want to cry.

He makes magic with words, and I'm inspired.

Big City Dreams

I'm leaving this Saturday for SAN FRANCISCO!!!!
You all know that NYC is my favorite city in the world, but hellooooooo! This is San Francisco we're talking about!
It's the city if divinity, and celebrity, and golden sunshine. It sparkles and twinkles with an aura of fabulousness. And me being, fabulous, I am sure to fit right in.

We live in the Suburbs of a fairly large city on the West Coast, in a neighborhood where all the houses look the same, and the funnest thing to do on the weekends is go shopping. Or to the movies.
There's no glam, there's no WOW factor. I mean sure, there's the beach and the mountains and so many goddamn trees, but that's not for me.
I'm all about traffic jams, and pollution, and crowded sidewalks.
I'm all about poetry slams, and five dollar shows, and amazing outfits.
I'm about being spontaneous and taking pictures on the side of the Golden Gate Bridge.
So, you see, my heart is happy. I feel like I'm going home, somewhere I belong.
Because I feel too big for this city of mine.
I am ready to go be fabulous in a city with like minded fabulous people.
Wish me luck, World, I'm on my way home.

ABC

Books are the best kind of magic there is.
They are wonderful, amazing, beautiful things.
A single page can transport you into another world.
A single page can make you cry, and laugh, and think, and wonder.
Books are so powerful: they have the ability to expand minds and make you think about the world in a way that you've never done before.
I want to write books. I want to build ideas with language, and a world out of letters.
I want to inspire, and give courage, and provoke thought.
Summer is a time to chase dreams, and even though I've said it a million times, this time I mean it:
this summer, I will write a book.
Dear World-
you've got another thing coming.


image courtesy of google images.

I taste summer on my tongue

Just one more week of school until it's officially summer vacation.
There's something so special about summertime: it's a mixing of hope and potential that comes in a basket of early morning sunshine and fresh grass.
It's the chance to be who you really are, away from the drudges of schoolwork and annoying classmates. It's all the possibility that's in eight hours of sunshine that was never there before. January is not the mark of the new year, our calendars revolve around summer, and when the time comes, the alarm clocks in our souls sing simultaneously.
Summer- six letters, two syllabus, and countless possibilities.
Maybe I'll dye my hair pink, go on a hike, change up my style, meet amazing people- who knows? And it's the not knowing that makes it all the more exciting.
The sun is up, the birds are chirping, and the faint buzz of the lawnmower penetrates the walls. It is summertime, child, be at peace.

xoxoxoxo,
J.

Have Beens, Never Were's, and Spencer Pratt

There's this new show on TV called I'm a Celebrity... Get me Outta Here.
The thing is none of the people on the show are celebrities.
They are have-beens.
They are not stars that have faded over time, but stars that were puny and had a chance to shine.
The most notable is ...
drum roll please...
Spencer Pratt.
I don't hate, but I don't like him AT ALL.
He's a jerk.
And he's thinks he's the shizznit.
He annoys me.
He makes my blood boil. He makes me want to reach my hands into the TV and smack him.
I don't understand how he can call himself a celebrity with a straight face.
He's a leech that sucked off LC's fame on the Hills.
And no, don't worry I do not watch the Hills. Puhleease. The media has not brainwashed me completely.
So moral of the story:
Spencer Pratt, if you ever come across this blog, because I'm sure you google yourself to see what people are saying about you, you suck.
So does your bombshell bimbo wife.

Case in point.

I need a job.
Actually, what I need is money, and since I'm not so keen on prostitution and drug dealing, getting a job seems the best way to do this.
I'm sick. Not physically, oh no, I'm fit as a fiddle. What I suffer from is Hyper reality. No girlfriend, I did not make that up.
Ever since I started watching Gossip Girl, and 90210, and all the other tv shows I would never admit to watching if you confronted me, I have begun measuring my own standard of living by their standard of living. Them being the TV characters. Not even the people who act them, but the people inside the TV.
I know I sound insane, but I can't help it! When I go to the mall and my friend says "Oh this dress would look so hot on you," I take one look and say "Serena would never wear that." When my cousin points at a guy and says "Oh, he's a cutie!" I take one look and say, "Oh him? He doesn't compare to Nate." My cousin looks at me baffled and says, "Huh? Whose Nate?" And I sheepishly hang my head, and mumble "Some kid from school."
So recently I have been looking through my wardrobe and I realized that NOTHING I own would be worn by the girls that go to Constance Billard. (Please don't ask.) So my sense of style has changed dramatically, much to the dismay of my mother's pocketbook.
She has realized that she can no longer take me shopping because my style now leans towards Very Expensive. Plus the economy.
Anywho. A girl of seventeen on the social scene of the Upper East Side (please don't point out I live in the Pacific Northwest) needs a wardrobe, and since my mother won't pay for it, the burden now lies on my shoulders.
So that is why I have to get a job.
So I can fit in with the people on TV.
My mother says that it's not a job I need, but therapy.
Retail therapy, anyone?

Negligence

I realize that I have been slacking, and I do offer you my most sincere, albeit slightly dramatic apologies. I realize now that when I created my blogger account, I had made an obligation, a promise, I had given my WORD that I would write faithfully, and I have not. I have become just another last blog post was last year kind of girl, and it hurts me. Because I am NOT that girl.
In case you haven't noticed my most recent obsession is regency. I want to wear gorgeous muslin gowns, and go to masquerades, and fall in love with a rake. Ohhh, most definitely a rake. I want to live in a time where there are Lords, and Viscounts, and Dukes. And if a man is seen alone with a woman she is compromised, and he has to marry her... and people believed in honor, and dignity, and your reputation was your worth. I want to be a debutante, and have a coming out party.
The only problem is that there are no longer respectable rakes, only manwhores, and a coming out party would be an entirely different thing.
It's so not fair! You don't understand, I belong in that time period just as surely as the sun belongs in the sky. If only I was born 200 years earlier.
We're supposedly better off now then we were in the dark ages, but I can't help mourn the things we lost, the things that were destroyed by the evils of capitalism, feminism, and democracy (he he he). Valor, and honor, and basic morals, and our fear of God, and most of all the respectable Rakes.

currently reading:

RED HOT ALERT

I haven't vanished off the face of the Earth.
I have not been kidnapped for my awesome style tips.
I am still alive, and my heart is still very much beating.
FOR KRIS ALLEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He's married :( Is this going to be a pattern?
John Mayer was with Jennifer Aniston, Chuck Bass didn't exist, and Kris Allen is married.
I fail at life.

No title

I failed my license test.
Again.
Third times the charm or something like that.
Good bye interneters- I need to go wallow in own grief.
Anyone up for a pity party?
You know what they say: misery loves company.

the information age

I am not nosey, as some people would tell you.
I am just really, really, really curious about things that concern other people.
Entirely different things.
And I just wanted to share with you something that really bugs me.
Is it me or am I saying really a lot more than usual?
Anyways.
I hate when there are two people next to you carrying on a very interesting conversation, and you are casually listening in, and someone starts a conversation with you.
I hate this, I hate this, I hate this!
Just when the discussion being carried on next to you is getting really (there I go again!) interesting, somebody always interrupts.
And this is what happened at 11:00 Wednesday morning in Astronomy.
Me: Pretending to be reading my textbook when I'm actually listening in on the group to my left
Someone rude: Heyyyyy J!!!! What's up?
Me: Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Leans a little to the left because they've started whispering
Someone rude: Confused expression at my rudeness. So how was your weekend?
Me: Mhhhhm. Throws pencil in direction of group. Crawls on ground to listen better... er I mean pick up pencil.
Someone rude: Racks brain at why I would possibly be mad at them. Okay. Bye.
Me: Realize that the group I have been eavesdropping on are all staring strangely at me. Hurriedly pick up pencil. Look around for Someone Rude.
See?
The world is full of people that interrupt the conversations you are listening in on, and make you look like a jerk all at the same time.
Gosh darnitt.

Television has ruined me

I miss Gossip Girl.
There. I've said it. If you are sick and tired of reading about my GG obsession, that I swear to God is NOT an obsession, feel free to click the tiny X in the right hand corner of the page.
...
You're still here!
Now I can safely assume that you're secretly obsessed with GG, too. Please humor me.
Monday April 27th is the season finale. And I don't know what I'll do.
Of course I'll watch it, with a huge bag of Salt and Vinegar chips, and vanilla ice cream, and afterwards I will cry myself to sleep and mourn the loss of my best friends forever.
Omg. That is incredibley sad, I know.
But true.
So very, very true.

It was ridiculous of me to think that I could say goodbye without crying. It was ridiculous of me to think that I could, somehow, despite how apart of me you are, be nonchalant about it. I really don't know what I was thinking.
Did I really think I could say goodbye to my other half, my sister in crime, my Hollywood like best friend forever, without losing a part of myself?
There's a whole in my chest, and it hurts like hell. I think my heart is breaking; let me explain. I am not some wimpy girl crying over a boy she has known for two weeks and convinced herself she would marry. I am a girl hurting over the loss of her sister. I am a girl whose had a part of her ripped out, and haphazardly stapled and glued and paper clipped together.
Hold my hand and let's dance across the pages of our memories. Slip back into time and watch our time together from a different angle. Let's set the soundtrack of our time together on repeat, and this time, let's sing at the top of our longs, regardless of how tired we are, or how many times we've heard the song before.
People are meant to be together. It's cruel to bring people together only to violently rip them apart. We're good together. I wouldn't call us two halves of a whole: we're not so alike. But were like two polar opposites that go well together. Like ketchup and Mac and Cheese. Like apple juice and oranges.
I'm empty inside, like a deflated bike tire. You know the feeling where you really want cereal, but there's no milk? It's been like that times infinity.
The hurt won't heal overnight, maybe not even at all. But it will get easier. It always does. Or at least that's what they tell me.
I wish I could keep everyone I loved right here, right next to me, for always.
But I can't, and you're gone, and I'm sad.
I miss you.
It's tangible.
It's not a feeling, but a big, heavy brick in the center of my being.
I miss you.

Oh em geee!

Busy, busy, busy, busy bee!
I've been busy! Which means I haven't been bored.
Which means, I have had fun things to do, and people to make fun of, and plenty of interesting stories to tell!
And I will tell them. Don't you worry.
Just not now.
On account of the fact that I have to go back to being busy.

RIP the American Dream

The American dream is the not the quest of every American to own their own home.
Contrary to popular belief, it is not the belief that someone can make it from the slums to the likes of Donald Trump.
No, it's nothing like that.
The American Dream is all about freedom.
It's about driving down the street with the top down, radio blaring, best friend to your right, the sun kissing your face, and wind in your hair.
It's about the need in every single one of us to drive and have a license.
And today at 9:00 AM when I failed my license test, it felt like a part of me died. I felt like freedom was almost in my clutches before a 60+ drive test examiner, whose breath REEKED of alcohol, no less, snatched it away from me.
So let's pray for my American Dream to RIP.
Oh America, you have failed me.

All my life my mother has told me that public transportation is the "evil of all evils."
That is a direct quote.
She has told me that public transportation is the truth behind the boogeyman. That it's where girls are raped, and kids are kidnapped, and people are shot, and sometimes homeless people that kind of smell like pee will sit next to you and ask you for money, and if you don't give it to them they'll pull out a knife.
I think you can see where I inherit my tendency to exaggerate.
So, anyways, I have always been afraid of the bus.
I mean, duh. You'd be kind of on crack if you weren't after being told that for so many years.
Then everything changed.
Just this September I decided that I wouldn't be going back to high school, but starting the early college program.
The only problem was I had no way to get there. And I steamed, and I stewed. Cuz, to be honest? I thought maybe she'd have me walk, but I told her, just to be clear, that that was the quickest way to adding me to the National High School Dropout statistics. But she said, oh no, don't worry. I have it all figured out.
And she handed me my very first bus pass.
You can only imagine how I must have felt.
I racked my brain trying to remember what I'd done to deserve a "fate worse then walking ten miles in stilletos." (how do you spell stilletoes?!)
And, no. I admit, that is not a direct quote.
So you see. It turns out she exaggerated when it came to the whole bus thingy.
Which really makes me think about what else isn't true.
Do girls really get raped at high school football parties? Is it really illegal to be out after 6?
How will I ever be able to distinguish truth from my mother's tragic attempts to keep me five forever?
Well, either way.
I'm on to her.

Fast forward

Sometimes I talk about unimportant things.
And sometimes I talk about really important things, like John Mayer and other cute boys, clothes, and most important of all, American Idol. I talk about world peace, too duh, and things like Obama's healthcare plan and unemployment rates, but really, American Idol.
I'm spontaneous and impulsive, but I've always been a follower of the "Why Fix it if it's Broken" philosophy, and American Idol was definitely not broken. So why, why, why, why did they feel the need to throw my world into complete disarray and add a FOURTH judge to the show?!
Don't get me wrong, Kara Dioguardi is bee-yooo-tiful. But someone please tell me what the point of having a fourth judge is? I would understand if she had some completely radical opinions, but noooooo. All she can do is repeat what the other three judges said. Um, okay? Oh, and since I'm going to be famous one day I don't want this to start some big controversy, so disclaimer!!!! disclaimer!!! No offense intended, Kara love. I mean, you're fabulous and all, just not on American Idol.
So I really, really hope you don't mind that whenever you start to speak on the show I fast forward. And if I've already reached live TV then I mute.
Again, no offense intended.

I am ready.
I have never been more ready.
This coming Tuesday I will take my driving license test!
*Hold for applause.
I know! Exciting, huh? Nerve wracking? You bet.
But it's okay. I've wanted to drive ever since I wanted to go places out of walking distance.
But I'm worried about one thing.
I may have mentioned my parent's overprotective nature. Allow me to elaborate.
When I was in third grade there was park across the street, but I was never allowed to go and play there with the neighborhood kids until I was in fifth grade. Even then my mother would hold my hand across the street and then leave me only to check up on me every 15 minutes. And that was completely unnecessary because more then once a kid would say "hey J, why is your mom watching us play soccer from the window?" and when I would look up she would hastily draw the blinds.
I wasn't allowed to cross the street until the summer after fifth grade. And, please give me more credit: I knew better then to ask about the big roads with actual cars, I'm talking neighborhood streets here, where the only think you can get hit by is little Sammy on his bicycle and the old ladies that powerwalk around the block.
See where I'm going with this?
I am counting on this license to be my life flight out of my boring life. But I'm afraid that my parents will, once again, find a way to set so many regulations that I will stay home because it will be too much of a HASSLE to drive anywhere.
But I watch a lot of TV and I read a lot of books.
So even though I've never sneaken (or is it snuken?) out before, desperate times call for desperate measures.
And as Blair Waldorf (if you don't know who she is I have lost all respect for you. just kidding! who said that?):
This one will be different. I need to wait for my moment, and then I'm going black-ops. Off the radar. No accountability. This war I'm gonna win.
Ms. Waldorf, great minds think alike. Please let the producer of your show know that he NEEDS me on his show!!! I would fit in perfectly. Beg, okay? And be sure to let me know what he says.

Sometimes i quote high school musical:

I'm breaking free,
yeah I'm breaking free.

Don't tell me you don't like High School Musical because I won't believe you. People say that all the time, but secretly they know all the words to "Bop to the Top," and they google Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Effron whenever they see a picture of them in People. So don't lie.
But really. I am breaking freeeeeeeeee :)
Lonely days are no more because baby J is back!!!
I'm meeting so many new people at school, it's amazing. And the thing I love the most is that I'm talking to people I would NEVER have spoken to in high school.
Not because I'm a snob or anything, but because I am a lover of all people.
But it's been really eye opening.
Talking about religion with the hardcore New Adventist, talking motorcycles with the Asian that works at Baja Fresh.
I'm learning from the people around me, and it makes want to learn so much more!
There are so many people out there, and it excites me.
If you're listening, I want to meet YOU.
But, I especially want to meet John Mayer.
I know. I'm a little obsessed.

Free Fallin - John Mayer

Guess whose back! back again. Shady, no, I mean J, not Shady! eminem refrences are so five years ago

I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm sorry I've abandoned you!
I already know what you're thinking:
if you can't keep us updated when you have nothing to do, you will totally forget about us when you're famous.
Not to worry folks, ease up. If, sorry, I meant WHEN I'm famous I won't be one of those snooty, not to mention skanky, celebrities that think they're, God forbid, better than you just because they have 156236 dollar purses. Ps. I would NEVER buy a purse that cost that much. It's a sign of insecurity, it screams: Hello, my name's _______, and I'm rich, and if you don't believe me LOOK AT MY BAG!!! I TOLD YOU I WAS RICH!!!
So where have I been?
Um, hello? Turn on the TV any given Tuesday/Wednesday night.
American Idol, duuuhhhhh.
I've decided to audition :) Seriously. So I've been singing nonstop since the season premier, and my mothers been, kindly, mind you, asking me to shut up.
Mother's, man.
And I promise you this is not one of those two minute phases I sometimes go through.
Plus, imagine if I WIN!!!!!!!
Then I'll REALLY be famous.
Plus, I'm sure it will score me points with John Mayer ;)
Did you say Jennifer Aniston ?
Sorry-- I don't know who that is.

I'm scared of the dark

I'm trying to write my story but my pen keeps running out of ink.
I want to be important, and do amazing things, but I don't know where to start.
I want to save the world, but sometimes I'm scared that I'm too insignificant.
I want to be remembered, but I'm afraid I'll be forgotten anyways.
I'm scared.
I'm scared that I won't be able to make my dreams come true.
I'm scared that the american dream is all propaganda; a clever way of subduing the masses. An endless game of dog chasing tail.
I think way too much for my own good; I stay up late at night when everyone's asleep and I think. About everything. About nothing. About everything inbetween.
I have all these elusive aspirations that are so out of reach. On the highest shelf of the mahagony bookshelf that leads you to the stars. But has anyone ever got that far?
Or are we all stuck on the 4th rung, on our very tiptoes stretching our fingers, but never quite reaching?
I want to meet someone whose made it to the future. I want to ask them how they got there. I want to ask them how you know when you get there. Because I don't pay attention to detail; what if I walk right by it without even knowing?
Because I am sick and tired of now. My life is one big game of waiting. And I've never been a very patient person. I wish there was an airplane that could fly you right to your future, and fly over all this growing up and making mistakes and learning lessons yadda yadda.
I just want to be there already, and see if it's everything I imagined.
But what if it's not? What do you do if you spend your entire life preparing for a future you end up not wanting at all?
I wish there was a manual. Or something.
Because I feel like I'm in a dark hole inside myself that no one can shine a flashlight into and show me the way because they don't even know where I am.
Hell, they don't even know it's dark inside me.
If you can hear me, please turn on the light on your way out.

Dear Barack Obama,
Wow. I don't even know where to start. You're no longer president-elect, but President. Wow times infinity. This is beyond anything I've ever experienced before. I volunteered at the Campaign for Change, you know. Me and my best friend. We walked around in the cold and knocked on doors. We got praises and 'keep up the good works', plus we got doors slammed in our faces and dogs set on us, but it was okay. It really was. Because I believed in you. Because I liked the way I felt after listening to you speak. Cuz I felt like I knew you, and you knew me. Because I felt like you cared about me. And I was too scared to believe that you could win. But you did, and I cried and cried and cried. I was so proud, you don't even understand. It was our victory.
And today it was made official.
B.Boy, do right by us, please. I'm counting on you. I'm seventeen years young, and sometimes I'm scared to grow up because the world's retarded. But you give me hope. You show me that my dreams can come true. That in the great story that is America, I can have a chapter. If I want it. If I work for it. And I will.
You make me want to be better. So thank you. It means a lot.
I've got your back Mr. President, and I want to help you fix America.
Because together, we can do anything.

Love,
J.