touch of fame.. jk jk

I'm going to disneyland on tuesday with my family! We're also going to LA and i'm definitely hoping to rub elbows with some celebrities... i know, i know, but it's the 13 year old girl in me!

I'm just really excited to be in the city that created such gorgeous specimens as Adam Levine and John Mayer spend time with my family...

I'm currently packing. Yeah... I've kind of made a mess of things.

long time no blog... visit me on tumblr! nomadmanifesto.tumblr.com & fameandotherdrugs.tumblr.com

here's a song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjVpkEGAgiw

be love<3

a confession

i have a confession to make. it's a little embarrassing. but before i get to that there is something you should know.

tomorrow is the midnight premier of harry potter.

i have never been more excited for anything in my life.

i've been reading harry potter since i was a child. i want you to try to understand what it means to me. i was eleven at the same time that harry, hermione, and ron were eleven. there is something so powerful about aging with characters. you see yourself in them.

every year i have had a book or movie release to look forward to. what harry potter means to me, what it means to so many people is almost unnameable. but the books were magical, and in being so, they allowed readers to recover some of the magic that has been lost in our own lives.

i'm getting sentimental. *smacks forehead* trust me, enough tears have been shed over the end. i even watched the london movie release and cried myself silly. but that's besides the point.

this is my confession.

for my summer class i am required to volunteer a minimum of 20 hours at a high school. i committed to volunteering four fridays in july which would have put me at a total of 32 hours. i am a bit of an overachiever. okay, fine i'm not, but i really do like working with kids.

a few days ago i realized that the midnight premier was thursday night. as in i would start the movie at 12, get done around 2:30, get back and be in my bed by 3:30.

and friday is the day after thursday, generally speaking. so i would have to be up at 6. and i would have to drive an hour and a half to get to my volunteer site. i couldn't imagine driving an hour and a half on only about 2 and a half hours of sleep. i'm too young to die!

so i decided that i would miss the premier. and considering how big of a harry potter fan i am, not to mention the fact that my ticket was PREPAID, that is saying a lot.

and i was heartbroken. so i decided that maybe i didn't have to volunteer on that specific friday. i would have my minimum number of hours done anyways, right? so i decided that i would tell my teacher that i had an emergency come up, and i wouldn't be able to make it on friday. she would be understanding, of course. i felt bad.

today in class i told her i had a family emergency come up. she looked at me expectantly. what came next was not planned or intended, i swear. i said: "my sister is having an emergency c-section."

my sisters are 15, 9, and 4 months, respectively.

i immediately wished the ground would open up and swallow me. where the HELL had that come from? i wasn't a good liar, i was sure she'd see right through me.

"congratulations!" she squealed. "is it her first child?"

was it? "yes," i hedged, creating this fake sister.

"is it a boy or a girl?"

"a girl," i blurted out.

FRAUD, FRAUD, FRAUD, the voice inside my head was screaming. i had invented a fake pregnant older sister. but on top of that i had invented a fake baby girl that is going to be born this friday.

i feel terrible.

but it was worth it. so, so, so worth it.

i'll blog about how incredible the movie was, and how i cried self-consciously in the dark theater, later.

letters

i haven't written any letters in a while. i'm a big fan of letters in case you haven't noticed. especially letters to people i don't have any (legal) way of reaching.

dear adam levine,

i think i'm in love. i graduate at the end of next year, and then i am all yours. i'd leave school right now, but just in case things don't work out, i need something to fall back on. it's the feminist in me, what can i tell you?

i know you have a girlfriend... a victoria's secret model? seriously? so unoriginal, adam, i'm a little disgusted. but i see the allure. just look at those long, spindly legs... on second thought, don't. so if you can wait just a little longer? i'll never leave your bed. (what? it's a song, okay, don't look at me like that).

yours,

jamila

dear james franco,

one of my biggest aspirations in life is to marry a good looking writer. you're certainly good looking, and your certainly a writer, but are you a good writer? and with those smoldering eyes of yours, does it even matter? hm. i recently read your book of short stories palo alto, and i immediately took a shower afterwards. just kidding. no, actually i'm not really kidding. but thank you for making me realize that i must amend my standards: for a guy to be marriage worthy he must not only be good looking but be a good writer, too. so thank you for making me realize that i deserve better.

forever yours,

jamila

now letters to people i actually know:

dear dawsa,

i love you and i miss you so much. it's incredibly lonely without you here. i miss you at the most random times. sometimes at night before i fall asleep i'll look at the clock and calculate what time it is for you, and i'll get sad. i wish you weren't so far away. my sister girl.

dear mama,

everyday is mother's day. i hope you feel that way. you're beautiful, inside and out, and i'm so blessed and proud to be your daughter. it's so nice having you home these past few weeks. i love seeing your face when i come home from school. it's my favorite face in the world, did you know that?

dear grandma,

i think, and this might seem a little strange, that you know me better than anyone else, and in a lot of ways i know you better than anyone else. better than your dead husband, or your own children. i can't wait to come see you. i dream of you sometimes. it makes waking up with you so far away that much harder. every poem i've ever written is about you in some way.

royal wedding

When I was like 10 I had the biggest crush on Prince William. I just knew that I would meet him, and he'd fall in love with me, and we'd be married, and I'd be a princess. I think that's what I was most excited for- being a princess. (What?! What ten year old girl didn't want to be a princess?)

I'm watching some NBC special about the preparation for the wedding and a number of issues come to mind:

- Why the @&(@# do I live in America? There is no royal family in America. The closest thing we have is Obama (don't get me wrong, Obama is the homeboy) and... Paris Hilton. Shoot me.

- Now that Kate Middleton is to marry the prince I am this much further from becoming a princess. Damn her. I'd hate her if she wasn't so darn cute.

- Hey Prince Harry... I always thought you were the cuter brother... No? I'll stop while I'm ahead.

I am feeling some royal envy. And I shouldn't. Because you know what? Princess is a state of mind.

almost famous

I won't be happy till I'm as famous as God."
- Madonna (seriously. who else would say something like that?




i auditioned to be an extra in a movie called Gone that's being filmed in my city.

i'm going to be famous, i'm going to be famous, i'm going to be famous! imagine, little old me, a celebrity- whoever would have thought? (besides me of course...)

"anything other than yes is no, anything other than stay is go"

i love you he says,
a bouquet.

i love you, too.
a mouthful of thorns.

just shoot me

when the going gets tough
the tough watch television

true story, folks. it seems like the more i have to do in regards to school and work, the more time i have to watch tv.

so without further ado...

my favorite television couples:

1) Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl


my obsession love of gossip girl is no secret. and there is no love story i love more than the tumultuous, angst ridden one. and if i happen to love one half of this equation more than the other...? it's not like i imagine myself in her place too often. That'd be weird. And more than a little romantic creepy.

2. Dan Humphrey and Serena Van Der Woodsen from Gossip Girl

They'd be number one, but the fact that their parents are now married demotes them. In their defense they're no longer dating. There's just something about Dan: he's a tall, dark and handsome writer that has been published in the New York Times. What's not to love?

3. Lisa Cuddy and Gregory House from House

You watch House, right? Who doesn't watch House? And Cuddy and House's dysfunctional relationship has been a long time coming. He's an arrogant, brilliant jerk, and she is his strong, sassy supervisor: the only woman ever to be elected the hospital's dean of medicine.

4. Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler from Law and Order SVU

My relationship with Law and Order is a double edged sword. It's like watching a car accident. It sickens me, but I can't look away. I feel the same way about Benson and Stabler's not-quite relationship. They're partners, and they always have each other's back. Now that sounds like the foundation of a very healthy, happy relationship. Now if only Elliot could get rid of his pesky wife...

5. Kyle Richards and Mauricio Umansky in The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills

I'm a little embarrassed, but in my defense it was late at night and I was in a bad way. I was tired, and I had work in the morning, and a ton of reading to do. So to make myself feel better I reached for the remote, and The Real Housewives was on. I had never seen it before, in fact, I had scoffed at it, until I begun to watch it. The majority of the women and men on the show are skimpy, skanky airheads, but Kyle and Mauricio have something special. They're rich, they have five kids, and they live in a freaking mansion.
Now that I think about it, maybe the only reason their relationship seems so stellar is because of all the other dysfunctional relationships on the show. And let me just tell you, the bar is not very high.

Hearbreak

I'm a little bit heartbroken.
If you've been reading my blog for a while now, I'm sure you've picked up on the fact that I don't give my heart away easily. I've only been in LOVE love a few times. My most serious relationship involved John Mayer. Then there was still is Chuck Bass. (What? the word relationship is up for interpretation, is it not? Your idea of a relationship might not be my idea of a relationship).
But before them there was Aladdin Tarzan Tuxedo Mask my first true love. Prince William.
I was fourteen when I saw an interview with him on the news and my heart went pitter-patter. I looked into at his on the television screen and I knew that we were destiny.
Don't forget I was in middle school: from my standpoint he had a lot of things going for him. He didn't wear braces and get food stuck in them. He didn't snap bra straps. And most importantly, he was a prince, and as loathe as I am to admit, one of my secret fantasies still is was to grow up to become a princess.

True, I didn't find him at all amazingly attractive, but he was a prince and no one is perfect.

But it just wasn't meant to be. The universe has conspired against me, and P.W has chosen to make another woman his bride. He just couldn't hold out any longer. To be honest, I don't resent him for it at all. There is only so long that someone can wait.

If only I had moved to England when I first saw him. If only I had followed my heart.
If only, if only.

I wonder if John Mayer's still single...

a thing or two about me

this is just in case you are wondering because i do. wonder, that is. all the time, about all kinds of people.

1) I spend most of my time losing things or looking for things I've lost, or looking for things I haven't even lost because when you lose things as often as I do, if you can't find something you automatically assume it's lost.
2) Aladdin was my first real love. Followed by Tarzan, and then Tuxedo Mask. Not even kidding.
3) I think RPrattz looks like an alcoholic homeless man.
4) Miley Cyrus, Hannah Montana, whatever the hell she calls herself these days annoys the hell outta me. I don't know why. Sometimes I wish I was famous just so I could not be friends with her.
5) I'm considering breaking up with Chuck Bass to be with Damon Salvator.
6) I'll admit that I'm slightly delusional.

<3

angst and ardor

It's a bad relationship.
I haven't seen him in three months. He's been away, I guess you could say.
In these three months I'd convinced myself that I didn't miss him. I'd convinced myself that I didn't care that he didn't ask how I felt about him leaving.
Maybe he knew that if he asked I'd throw myself at his feet, collapse into sobs, and ask "What else am I supposed to do on Monday nights?"

He's back now. And it's as if he never left. Call me weak, I call it love.

Do you feel like you're walking in on the middle of a conversation?
Sorry. I do that a lot.
But with him, I just don't know where to begin.
Mondays are our days. I pretend that I'm not sitting on the coach by my sister and cousin. I pretend that he hasn't bewitched a million other girls all over the world. Not gonna lie, it's extremely difficult when we can only see each other one day a week, but trust me, it wasn't my choice. The only other times I get to see him are in my dreams, in reruns of Gossip Girl, or when I (occasionally, I might add) google stalk him.

If you knew me, you would know that I have never met a boy I like liked. I have met boys that I have liked, boys that I have hated (yes, hate is a strong word, but that's why I used it), and boys who have stalked me (i'll tell you all about one of these days. it was a very exciting traumatic experience).

Chuck Bass was the first boy to make my heart skip a beat. He was the first boy I let wander into my thoughts, and invade my dreams. The first boy I dedicated an entire day to. The first boy I ever really like liked.

And this is why I will be single for the rest of my life, curled up in front of the television watching Gossip Girl. And when the show goes off air, I will wear sweatpants in the house for a month, rent every season of GG, buy every flavor of ice cream (not because I'm mopey, but because I like ice cream, okay?), and say goodbye.

For now I am more than happy to wait all week for Monday night at 8 oclock. Right now I am more than happy to be thought of the-girl-no-guy-can-get, as opposed to the-crazy-girl-that-is-pining-for-a-tv-character.

bucket list

i know what your thinking. another list, wtf. but it's not like that, i swear. as a writer i must explore all mediums and forms, and as you can tell i'm currently exploring lists and no capitalization.

anywho..

if i was ever on miss america (which, by the way, i would totally win), and the judges asked me what i would like to see happen in the world before my time was up (yeah, did that make you think of a microwave timer, or a third grade multiplication test?) this is what i would say:
drum roll please...

- I would like to see Rob Pattinson brush his hair. At first he looked sexy messy, and I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Now his hair screams 'brush me' on a good day, and 'i'm an alcoholic' on bad days.

and that's all i got.
at least i tried although the effort was minimal

on a different note, anyone watch american idol?


it's lovelovelovelovelove.
hey cougar kara, back off!

admit it, you love me anyways

hello world!

i'm sorry, school has gotten the best of me. there are three weeks left in the term, which is a little early to be playing catch up since i usually wait until finals week, but I have been unusually lazy busy this term.
The way I see it there is an entire world waiting to be saved, and doing my oceanography homework is not going to make a damn difference.

(Never take oceanography. I wanted to be a marine biologist when I was in third grade. Now I wish I could go back in time and choke myself.)

So here's a list because lists are a cop out good way of exploring one's identity...

Things I do that I would never admit anywhere but on the internet:

1) I sleep with my light on sometimes because I still think there's a monster under my bed (weird. i know)

2) Sometimes I talk shit about my friends (What? Everyone talks about everyone.)

3) I argue for the sake of arguing (sometimes I even argue when I know I'm wrong.)

4) When I say something brilliant in class I repeat it in my head all day (Word for word.)

5) I google people in my classes sometimes. And not in a stalkery way (The things you can find out on the internet nowadays...)

6) I walk like I'm hot shit, but secretly I'm absolutely terrified that I look like an idiot

7) I eat mac and cheese with ketchup. (Don't knock it till you try it.)

8) I hate being alone in my own head. It's absolutely terrifying.

9) I always thought life would be easier if I was a slut/partier/slacker stoner, so even though I talk shit about people like that, a small part of me secretly envies them

10) For some weird reason I automatically assume that every guy that looks at me wants to marry me. (Yeah. I'm not going to add on to this one...)

11) I develop romantic feelings for book and television characters. Like Prince Jonathan from the Song of the Lioness series. Or Damon Salvator (droool) from Vampire Diaries (I'm sure you now know why I would never tell these things to a soul. They'd put me in an asylum!)

any quirks of your own?

<3

i can't be the only one

“We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.”

Fydor Dostoevsky

1) Who signs up for the email list of every cause I support (or want to support) and never opens the ten billion emails they send

2) Who realizes she is walking the wrong way in a public setting, and then keeps walking the wrong way because to turn around would make her look like an idiot

3) Promises to do her homework in the morning no matter what, and then decides not to (even though she knew she wouldn't)

4) Who gets writers lust. I can't be the only one who reads a piece of writing that is so amazing it makes me wish with all my heart that I had written it.

5) Who knows she shouldn't say something out loud, but says it anyway

6) Who has a "Things to Google" list

7)Who nods her head intelligently in class, even when I have no idea what people are talking about

8) Who looks up shoes online that I won't be able to afford anytime soon. Case in point.

9) Who thinks everyone deserves to appreciate how funny I am, so if I make a joke the first time and no one laughs, I'll assume it's because they didn't hear me, so I'll repeat it. It's not like I'll be able to hear if they laugh or not because I'll be laughing too hard

10) I can't be the only one who stays up all night, thinking about everything, mostly John Mayer and wondering what everyone else in the world does when they can't fall asleep, and the internet has gotten boring, and there are no more books to read, and the last person you texted has fallen long asleep

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....

you're beautiful

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

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.

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.

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.