White Ribbon and Hot Water

I haven't done this in awhile. I've got a white ribbon tied around my forehead and I'm not totally sure how it got there. Well, I am, I tied it there last night, but I only have a vague memory of tying it. It's been there so long now though that it's like it's a part of my head. My hair is all mussed up and matted around the ribbon, but I like it. I'm really dirty in general actually, but again I like it. Lately I like being dirty more than I ever have before. I've been a person who couldn't stand being dirty. Normally, if I go a day without showering I feel like I'm going crazy. Like, I can't even be happy when I feel unclean, I just feel disgusting and uncomfortable and actually unhappy. But now, I feel dirty, physically I guess, but I feel clean in other ways. Really refreshed. That's strange too, because I'm exhausted, and you wouldn't think exhaustion would go with being refreshed, but it does. The thing is though, maybe I'm a hypocrite, because I know I'm going to shower later, but really more for the hot water than anything.

Poetry

I wish I was a poet. Lately all I want to do is write poems, but I can't do it. I just can't put my feelings and thoughts into poetry, it just doesn't come out right. I'm always too afraid to be bold with my words when I write poetry. I sit there and wonder, "Is it okay for me to phrase it like this? Is it weird for me to write this?" The thing is I don't even realize that I judge myself this way until I read other people's poetry, and I see the amazing creativity and beauty that goes into real poetry and I think, "Wow, why can't I write like that? Why didn't I think of that?" I like to write prose, but sometimes I think there's something immensely more powerful about poetry. Good poetry that is. Sometimes I think that if I force myself to sit down and try to write a poem, then maybe eventually I'll get better at it. But there's this other sad part of me that feels like I'll never be good at it. It just seems like one of those things that you have to have a talent for in the first place in order to have something to build on.

I'm still going to try though. Like I said, there's really nothing as powerful as a good poem, and I bet, nothing as satisfying as writing one. At least from my point of view. It would be fitting to end this with a poem, but I'm not going to. Why, after saying that I could not write a poem without significant effort would I then post some flimsy excuse for a poem? It's just hypocritical, and if I tried to write a poem on here, I'd be too worried about how dumb it would sound. Seriously, you know that no one is actually completely honest when they blog, because it's impossible to be completely honest in almost any circumstance, especially when you know someone's watching. Well, I'm being honest, and I'd feel stupid writing a poem on here just to write a poem. If I'm going to create a work of art, it has to be something I'm proud of, not a piece of garbage.

God, I need to delete this thing.

"We have to laugh, to look at each other; we have to laugh 'cause we're not alone"

I haven't blogged in awhile. Not that it really matters, this blog isn't the most exciting thing ever.

I got caught up in school and theater and life and I just stopped. Too much actually going on in life to have time to write about it. A lot of things have changed. My summer feels strained, but I don't want it to. I want it to be good, and bright, and fun. I think it will be, I just have to stop thinking negatively, and start thinking positively. My week looks packed with lots of activity, and I'm really happy for that. I'm looking forward to strengthening some friendships.

I want to write this summer, too. I used to write a lot, stories mostly. I haven't done that in so long, and I think late sticky sleepless summer nights will be good for that. I'm looking forward to messing up my sleeping schedule so that I can stay up really late every night. I used to hate when that happened, but now I think I'm really going to enjoy it because I'm actually going to use the time productively, instead of just lying in bed trying to sleep. Wow, it's so nice not to have to get up at six o'clock every morning for school. I love to sleep in; today (or yesterday I guess?) I slept until 12. It was so good.

I love the Lemonheads. They're so 90's and classic. Grungey and good. Do you ever feel like a band is narrating your life? That's how I feel about them right now. Maybe it's not exactly a narration, but more like a thematic parallel. I can always find something to directly connect to. I love when there's a beautiful merging of melody and lyrics to make a perfect moment in a song. I just want to soak in the beauty.

Anyway, bed time summer sleepers.

Stalling!

Right now, I am stalling doing my history homework. I have rather a lot of it, but I almost feel like it doesn't matter that I'm stalling because it's going to get down eventually, so who cares if I waste some time beforehand?

I'm sad because our comp prelims have been postponed from today to tomorrow because of the snow. I was really pumped to do it today, and doing it on a Sunday just seems wrong somehow. Plus, it means I have to do all my homework today...which isn't a particularly appetizing thought.

Last night I had a good time hanging out with friends. It's weird how other people can improve your day so much sometimes. Then of course, other times, they can make your day worse. If there weren't other people would I be happier or sadder? I suppose neither, I'd just be neutral if I'd never known what is was like to be around others. As it is, I feel like at the moment, I generally like other people.

I don't really have much to say today; I suppose it's pretty obvious that I'm just blogging because I'd rather blog than do my history homework. Oh well, not every blog can be a work of literary art that reveals the inner workings of my soul. Not that my blogs often do that anyway. Does that sound negative? I don't mean it to.

Where am I going NOW?

Lately I've developed a superstitious obsession with knocking on wood. If I say or think anything the least bit prideful, or assume something I immediately become filled with fear and if I don't knock on the nearest piece of wood I feel unsettled and worried that I've jinxed myself. It's as if I'm afraid the Gods will punish me for my hubris like in an ancient Greek myth. Which is ridiculous. I don't know why I've become so superstitious lately; maybe it has to do with the mixture of paranoia and pressure I've become aware of recently. I can never decide if I'm a logical person or not because although I operate in my life mostly based on logic I tend to half believe in superstions and more cosmic unexplainable things at the same time. I suppose that's normal though. I don't understand how some people can be just one way or the other.

I've been trying to re-get myself into the band Tegan and Sara. I used to really like them a few years ago--I think it was freshman year? My favorite song by them is probably "Call it Off". Even though I hadn't heard the song or watched the video in a while as soon as I clicked the play button to watch it I knew that it was a song I liked. There's something about the song and the video that goes with it that really elicit an emotional response from me; like there's something inside of me that keeps being pulled and yanked and strained. I think that's the mark of a good artist, when the art really makes you feel something at the core. The twin who's singing in the video (I honestly don't know if it's Sara or Tegan) has this pained vulnerable expression on her face as her sister wraps several long cords of colored telephone wires around her. Everything else is white. It makes me think of starting new and clean, but still being all tangled up in something that happened which you can't let go of.

I've started to really fear growing older. My youth spirit has really kicked in lately, so much that I've started to feel like a very stereotypical teenager who distrusts authority and is determined to go against the path layed out by society. But I don't know. Is there anything wrong with that? I guess I can't deny the way I feel about life, so who really cares. I just want to go out and do stuff, and go places because I have this inexorable feeling that once I hit thirty life is pretty much over. The milestone of thirty in my future is currently one of my biggest fears. I feel like I have to get as much done as I can before then, before my youth is drained slowly out of my body. It's actually kind of a weird motivation to get as much done as possible. I used to think that growing older would be great, but now I dread it. I wonder if I'll feel the same once I have reached that age? At the same time though I see the time inbetween now and thirty as being a peak point of life, although I don't really know since it hasn't happened yet. Still, I think of it as being probably the freest point of my life when I won't be restricted by still living at home or by having a family of my own. However, I am also really afraid that I'm going to waste all of my twenties in school, knowing that I plan to go to college and grad school. I'll have to make sure I balance studying with breathing, per se. Is that cheesy? Whatever.

Furious...

I am very angry.
Extremely irate, in fact.
Why, you may ask? Well, in my history class we're doing WWII in ONE WEEK. I think that is positively outrageous. Possibly the most important war in the history of ever, and we're doing it all in a week???? WHAT THE FUCK??!!!!!
ARGHHH IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY!!!!!!!!!!
I've had a lot more trouble controlling my anger lately. I just want to shout at people for being so goddamn stupid. Wow, I never say goddamn. I must be really mad. I even stabbed someone today ;)

All I have wanted all day today is a pain au chocalat. It's this French pastry. It's pretty much a croisant with chocolate inside, and it is sooooooo good. I was sitting in math class today and the idea of eating a pain au chocolat just came to me.
And it sounded delicious.
I think I would be absolutely, completely, as satisfied as I could possible be with my day if I just had one.
Thinking about pain au chocolat makes me think about my friend Elisabeth, from Austria. She's wicked cool. We're friends on facebook, but I really miss her. I only knew her for four weeks, but I feel as though we really connected as friends for those four weeks. I think we would be really good friends...if it wasn't for the fact that she lives on the other side of the ocean...But, still, sometimes I wonder if she misses me as much as I miss her. I told her to visit me if she ever comes to the U.S., but I remember asking her and our other friend who was German, if they thought any of us would ever see each other again after we all went our separate ways, back to our separate countries. They both said no. I was all ready to be say, "YEAH!!! WE WILL TOTALLY SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN!!!!!!!!!" BUT NOOOOO. They just said, "I doubt we'll ever see each other again." That just made me really depressed, and I thought they were being a bit cynical. Although I guess it's realistic.
But anyway. Elisabeth speaks English so well. It's so incredible. I mean, she speaks English better than I speak French, plus she speaks French almost as good as I do, she speaks Spanish, she speaks German as her native language, and she can read, write, and understand Latin. I just think that's so amazing. She thought it was nothing! We really start foreign languages way too late here. I don't mean to sound like a pretentious snob or something, talking about how sophisticated Europe is, but we really should start learning foreign languages earlier. It makes so much more sense. I have this enthuisiasm for learning languages. I wish I could learn every single language. Which is impossible really, and half the languages I would probably never even have an opportunity to use, BUT STILL. It would be sweet.
Anyway, this is awfully long.

Tired

I'm tired. I'm incredibly, horribly tired. And that's all I really have to say right now, all that's really on my mind. I don't feel like spilling out every single one of my thoughts tonight. I have a very basic animal need right now, and why should I try to decorate it and make it something it is not? I need sleep and I'm tired. That's all. I'm going to sleep now.

Of Montreal!

So, Of Montreal is playing in Boston tomorrow, for $32. I really, really, really want to go!!!! But obviously I can't. Because it's a school night, and I have stupid Madrigal Dinner rehearsal...Fuck Madrigal Dinner...I'm going to be so glad when it's over. It's a fun memory to look back on when it's all over, but while you're doing it it's pretty much awful because it takes up all your time and (if you're a chamber maiden like me) you have to serve people and be degraded by being called a wench and a servant. A part of me knows that the whole "wench" thing is really a joke, and that I shouldn't care, but my aggressive feminist argumentative side is really offended. It's a really weird sensation, these two sides of my personality battling: my laid back cool side and my belligerent feminist side. I don't know though, I don't want anyone to think I'm one of those crazy feminists who wants to cut up men or who's wicked self-righteous and obnoxious...because I'm not....
Anyway, back to Madrigal. My favorite part is the tights run, after the last show, where the guys run through the downstairs hallway in their tights (yes, ALL the guys wear tights during Madrigal) and the girls all crowd in the doorway and cheer. It's pretty much hilarious.
Oh yeah, this post was supposed to be about Of Montreal...well, I still want to go....gahhhhh, these annoying limitations...

France me manque

I really miss France. When I was over there this summer I got really homesick for America, and when I walked into the airport in Boston in August I was humming America the Beautiful to myself. Now, I feel the opposite way. I could easily walk into Charles de Gaulle Airport humming la Marseillaise.
I've never felt this way about another place before that wasn't Holden. Sure, I've missed other places, but it's never really felt like homesickness. I feel like I have some sort of special connection to France now, like it's my home away from home.
I miss walking up and down my street, even though it took forever, and I had to get up early in the morning to catch the bus. I miss the ridiculous heat and the way the cicadas never shut up in the afternoon. I miss my "French family" and the beautiful house I was so lucky to stay in, with the view of the gorgeous back yard and the sparkling blue swimming pool. I also miss the friends I made there from other countries.
One thing I miss in particular was sitting on the back porch in twilight and talking with Berenger (the woman I stayed with's son). He would light his cigarette, and I would stare out at the back yard and pat the dog Aida while we talked about our day and whatever other topics came up. I'm really grateful for his company because otherwise I imagine I might have gotten very lonely in the evenings.
I always feel very proud when I remember conversations I had in French while I was in France because when I explain them to people, I realize I'm translating conversations from French into English. It's a really cool feeling. The weird thing is, that sometimes I feel like I can't even translate them. It's as though you can't just take French and turn it into English; it's not English it's French! French isn't it a translation of English, it's its own entity. That's what's so fascinating about it which I never understood until I went to France. Being completely immersed in another language is amazing. I'm completely convinced it's the best way to learn a language.
I think the reason I feel so attached to France, and like it's my second home, is because in a lot of ways I had to fend for myself. I had the advantage of staying with my mom's friend and her family, but other than that I had to sort of find my own way. I rode the bus every day and walked to classes and in the afternoon I explored the city and shopped for presents for my friends or I want on excursions with the program I was in. I got lost many times, especially my first few days there. As time went on though, I started to know Aix, and know how things were done, and how to get places. It felt like I really lived there, even though I only did for a month.
Wow, I really miss it.

Perfect Summer Heat

I'm really excited for summer. I love that feeling when it's getting dark out and you're hanging with your friends and you decide to go for a walk in the summer heat. Everything's kind of sticky. You're kind of sticky, your friends are kind of sticky; we're all sweating a bit and everyone sort of smells. But not too much, just enough to be vaguely noticeable and not quite offensive. It's a good kind of smell because it's real, and no one cares anymore because it's so damn humid and hot you can't do anything about it. I love that feeling when you're walking along and you push back your hair, and it's a little wet and a breeze comes along and cools your face and it feels like the best thing in the world. And you're just walking down the street with your friends, not really going anywhere that's an important destination (the Holden Honeyfarms perhaps?) because the destination doesn't really matter much. You're walking just to walk. And you're just singing and walking (and sometimes racing) with your friends. Perfect summer heat.
That's what summer is to me.

Young Victoria

I am writing about a movie again.
I just saw Young Victoria in theaters. I was really moved by it. It was a love story really, about the relationship between Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, but it was one of the most touching things I've seen in awhile. It was really well done; it was casted well and it was beautifully filmed.
I actually cried in the theater. Granted, it doesn't take much for me to cry while watching a movie; I'm a crier, but this movie made me cry more than usual. It wasn't just the few little tears it was actual, real crying. I felt personally affected by it somehow; more empathetic than sympathetic. The last time I cried like that in a theater I think was when I went to see The Lion the Witch and The Wardrobe. I cried during the scene where they cut Aslan's mane before they killed him. It just seemed so awful to me that they had to humiliate him so cruelly when he was being so noble.
I cried this time because there was one of those little write ups on the screen about what happened after the movie ended. It said that after Prince Albert died Victoria continued to lay out his clothes for him every day until she died in memory of him. I like to think that I don't go for sappy romantic things, and I really don't think that is sappily romantic. I think it's sad and beautiful in a real way, not a fake romantic way.
It was a beautiful movie, and it was sweet. It puts a good feeling in you after you see it, and it puts faith in you somehow. Like I said, I'm easily moved, but this movie moved me more than most.

A Streetcar Named Desire-STELLA!!!!!!!!

I've watched A Streetcar Named Desire twice in the past two days. It's just such a great play, and the movie is excellent. I think it might be my favorite play actually; Tennesee Williams was an amazing playwright. Everything he writes is so morbid, but for some reason I enjoy it so much. It's just beautiful poetry.
The acting is really good too. Vivien Leigh is the most convincing crazy person I've ever seen. She giggles at one point, and the camera is showing her from the back. She's all hunched over and gripping the wall and she giggles in this sinister, crazy way. And then of course there's Marlon Brando. He is incredible. He's absolutely perfect as Stanley Kowalski. I feel like no one will ever play that role again as good as he did it. He creates the perfect balance of sex appeal and asshole.
I've never been in a play that I knew beforehand besides A Christmas Carol I think. And I've never been in a drama before. It would be really cool to be in Streetcar but I don't think I could manage Blanche. I'm not good enough. I'd have to be Stella.
STELLA!!!!!!!!!!