I definitely meant to write about how ridiculous (in the most awesome way) my week was when it was still, well, that week. But it was delayed, and I would like to re-live through words regardless.
Saturday- Prom. Kinda fun. Bad food. Good friends. Lots of pictures. My camera never left my hand.
Saturday/Sunday- After-Prom. Absolute crazy madness worth of fun. A lot of falling. I can't remember a lot of it, but I had an amazing time, that much I'm sure. Went back to a friend's house for late night/early morning drunken-ness and swimming.
Sunday- Aftermath. Woke up to friends, swimming, and the Lakers. Not much more I can ask.
Monday- School. Buzzkill.
Tuesday- All Time Low video shoot. Wow. It definitely beat my prom experience in terms of fun and amazing-ness. Neck and neck with after-prom. Can't even explain the euphoria.
Wednesday- School. Semi-buzzkill. XP Still on an adrenaline rush/high from the day prior.
Thursday night/Friday morning- Grad Nite at Disneyland. Lots of fun. Absolutely exhausted on the ride home.
And thus, my not really full week of excitement ends. But it was definitely one of the best weeks of my life. No exaggeration. Can't really compare it to my 8th grade Yosemite trip though. I'll put them in two different categories of awesome.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Albums vs. Singles/Songs
A strange debate has taken place in my head about the idea of albums and records of artists versus simply invdividual songs or singles. As of late, I have liked buying whole albums as opposed to songs. I feel like listening to a record in its entirety enhances the meaning the artist(s) try to portray through his/her/their music and sometimes brings even more feeling to the singles everyone hears. Like the songs in The Black Parade. Individually, they are all great songs to listen to. Individually, some people adore them, while others scorn them for being the epitome of stereotypical emo with a circling theme of darkness and death. But together, they tell a story of life and death and the emotions that run through your veins in the moments before and after you take your last breath. Concept albums such as TBP are meant to be listened to as wholes, though they can produce chart-topping singles.
Other albums have songs that are quite possibly impossible to listen to without the rest of the record. Forgive Durgen's Razia's Shadow is essentially a musical within an album, narration and all. The songs typically end with narration leading to the following song. The songs themselves are quite enjoyable to listen to, but missing pieces disallows listeners to fully appreciate what the congregation of musicians have put out.
Then, there are albums that don't have a connection between their songs other than the genre and the artist. Pretty.Odd., Folie a Deux, and City of Evil are all records I love listening to as collective groups rather than singling out the songs within them. As good as they may be, I find a strange enjoyment listening to them all together with the other songs in the album.
And that's my muscial rant for today. Maybe a discussion of rock vs. hip-hop vs. pop next time?
Other albums have songs that are quite possibly impossible to listen to without the rest of the record. Forgive Durgen's Razia's Shadow is essentially a musical within an album, narration and all. The songs typically end with narration leading to the following song. The songs themselves are quite enjoyable to listen to, but missing pieces disallows listeners to fully appreciate what the congregation of musicians have put out.
Then, there are albums that don't have a connection between their songs other than the genre and the artist. Pretty.Odd., Folie a Deux, and City of Evil are all records I love listening to as collective groups rather than singling out the songs within them. As good as they may be, I find a strange enjoyment listening to them all together with the other songs in the album.
And that's my muscial rant for today. Maybe a discussion of rock vs. hip-hop vs. pop next time?
Friday, May 1, 2009
I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
*begin vent sesh'*
I feel. Period. ("period" Period "period"?) I cannot insert any one emotion at the end of that sentence. It's not so much an emotional rollercoaster but rather an emotional scrambler. You know those rides where you're in a little car-type thing and it spins you, and then you try to high-five your friend in the other car-type thing while the person running the thing is yelling at you to keep your hands inside the "vehicle"? Yeah, that scrambler. I have so many different feelings running amuck within me, and I've found no other satisfying way to sort them out other than here. We're being green here, people. No need for the use of paper.
Most prominent, I have been excited/happy/ecstatic about college. I'm going to (in my eyes) an amazing school, I have a roommate, and I'm registered for orientation in June. I can't believe it's all happening, graduation then college and such; it's so surreal... bringing up my next point.
I, as of recently, am scared. Not anxious. Not nervous. Flat. out. scared. It's not so much graduation (that goes under the excited category) but what happens after that. I'm not social by nature. I don't meet tons of new people; I make friends with individuals. The problem is that I don't make the effort to maintain said friendships. The friends I have now are basically family, but they're the ones calling me, never the other way around. I've met other people throughout high school, and even though I would call them "friends," they're more like "acquaintances" as horrible as that sounds. Don't lie to yourself; you know people like that, too. Back to why I'm scared: I have no idea what it will be like once everyone's gone for college. I'm fucking terrified that we'll lose contact with each other. Moreso that I will lose contact with them. And the sad thing is that I wouldn't do a thing about it. Just sulk in self-pity because I'm a self-loathsome kind of person, but I don't normally tell anyone that...
Moving on, I guess the other biggest feeling I've been having is frustration, non-menstrual cycle related (but who am I to say it didn't contribute?). As much as I love my friends, they piss me off sometimes. Yes, I am aware this is completely contradictory to what I said above. I think I just have a short bullshit-tolerance level, and I definitely have a barely-there lack-of-common-sense tolerance. Prom sucks. People who flake suck. People who don't realize that this is senior year and that we will not have another experience like this all together again suck. I'm willing to delve into my own pocket and savings to make sure we can all do this, but some people have too much pride, while others refuse help. I'm kind of sick of everything already. If I hadn't paid for everything, I would consider not going and returning to my shell of anti-social-ness. But I did, so I won't, and I'll have to deal.
There's a little anxiety flowing around, too, what with APs being next week and all. That's not so much a big deal since I'm technically in college already. But passing = credits = less courses = less money that has to be spent. OR passing = credits = more space for elective courses = opportunity to actually continue drawing and art.
On a side note with no identifiable emotion that I can think of is the feeling of always being a black sheep. Even when I somewhat fit in somewhere, there's always something to set me apart. But I guess that's what makes everyone else unique, huh? I don't know. Sometimes, I wonder if I landed myself in the wrong group of friends, not that I would change anything. I really do love them. But this is a post for another day, I suppose...
Bah, this was too long. And it doesn't even cover everything. But it covers the majority of it, I guess. And it helped get things off my chest. Music is my boyfriend and is doing a fan-fucking-tastic job of keeping me sane at the moment. I need to go to a live show, stat. It's been too long since my ears have been pierced by the sounds of guitars, bass, drums, and screams.
The title of this post has been brought to you by the lovely gentlemen of My Chemical Romance. My sanity thanks you, Mr. Way, Mr. Way, Mr. Iero, Mr. Toro, and Mr. Bryar.
*end vent sesh*
I feel. Period. ("period" Period "period"?) I cannot insert any one emotion at the end of that sentence. It's not so much an emotional rollercoaster but rather an emotional scrambler. You know those rides where you're in a little car-type thing and it spins you, and then you try to high-five your friend in the other car-type thing while the person running the thing is yelling at you to keep your hands inside the "vehicle"? Yeah, that scrambler. I have so many different feelings running amuck within me, and I've found no other satisfying way to sort them out other than here. We're being green here, people. No need for the use of paper.
Most prominent, I have been excited/happy/ecstatic about college. I'm going to (in my eyes) an amazing school, I have a roommate, and I'm registered for orientation in June. I can't believe it's all happening, graduation then college and such; it's so surreal... bringing up my next point.
I, as of recently, am scared. Not anxious. Not nervous. Flat. out. scared. It's not so much graduation (that goes under the excited category) but what happens after that. I'm not social by nature. I don't meet tons of new people; I make friends with individuals. The problem is that I don't make the effort to maintain said friendships. The friends I have now are basically family, but they're the ones calling me, never the other way around. I've met other people throughout high school, and even though I would call them "friends," they're more like "acquaintances" as horrible as that sounds. Don't lie to yourself; you know people like that, too. Back to why I'm scared: I have no idea what it will be like once everyone's gone for college. I'm fucking terrified that we'll lose contact with each other. Moreso that I will lose contact with them. And the sad thing is that I wouldn't do a thing about it. Just sulk in self-pity because I'm a self-loathsome kind of person, but I don't normally tell anyone that...
Moving on, I guess the other biggest feeling I've been having is frustration, non-menstrual cycle related (but who am I to say it didn't contribute?). As much as I love my friends, they piss me off sometimes. Yes, I am aware this is completely contradictory to what I said above. I think I just have a short bullshit-tolerance level, and I definitely have a barely-there lack-of-common-sense tolerance. Prom sucks. People who flake suck. People who don't realize that this is senior year and that we will not have another experience like this all together again suck. I'm willing to delve into my own pocket and savings to make sure we can all do this, but some people have too much pride, while others refuse help. I'm kind of sick of everything already. If I hadn't paid for everything, I would consider not going and returning to my shell of anti-social-ness. But I did, so I won't, and I'll have to deal.
There's a little anxiety flowing around, too, what with APs being next week and all. That's not so much a big deal since I'm technically in college already. But passing = credits = less courses = less money that has to be spent. OR passing = credits = more space for elective courses = opportunity to actually continue drawing and art.
On a side note with no identifiable emotion that I can think of is the feeling of always being a black sheep. Even when I somewhat fit in somewhere, there's always something to set me apart. But I guess that's what makes everyone else unique, huh? I don't know. Sometimes, I wonder if I landed myself in the wrong group of friends, not that I would change anything. I really do love them. But this is a post for another day, I suppose...
Bah, this was too long. And it doesn't even cover everything. But it covers the majority of it, I guess. And it helped get things off my chest. Music is my boyfriend and is doing a fan-fucking-tastic job of keeping me sane at the moment. I need to go to a live show, stat. It's been too long since my ears have been pierced by the sounds of guitars, bass, drums, and screams.
The title of this post has been brought to you by the lovely gentlemen of My Chemical Romance. My sanity thanks you, Mr. Way, Mr. Way, Mr. Iero, Mr. Toro, and Mr. Bryar.
*end vent sesh*
Friday, March 27, 2009
I'm No Philosopher
Finally went to the beach. It was fantastic. That was expected. What was not expected was thinking of matters greater than moments consisting of myself and my friends. I stood at the shore (the water was freezing) with the waves meeting my feet only to recede back into the ocean, and I thought to myself "What a concept." Different people walk into your life, and I'm not talking about your best friends. I'm talking about the people with whom you converse not too often, yet you remember them. And as soon as you begin to revel in their presence, their momentary stance with you disappears and retreats back into obscurity. But they're not really gone. They stay with you and shape who you are. The friends and family you see and with whom you interact can obviously have a huge influence in your life. But sometimes, it's the people who tangentially touch you --such that it almost seems immaterial-- that help shape your views and personality. Each wave onto shore is different, as is every person, but they blend together to make something greater.
Don't know if I conveyed everything within my thoughts at the moment, but I hope that the jist of it is displayed.
Don't know if I conveyed everything within my thoughts at the moment, but I hope that the jist of it is displayed.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Rejection
Honestly, it's not as bad as it seems. You found out, you move on, and you don't dwell.
Speaking of which, I got rejected from a college today. My first, actually. Considering it was a "reach" for me, I will say that I was expecting it. But expecting something and something actually happening are two vastly different things. Mildly disappointed, but I'm already in somewhere I would love to go and still waiting for other schools. Things could be worse.
On the other, one my best best best best friends who is my brother from another mother (one of many) got it, and I am absolutely ecstatic for him. It is in-fucking-credible, and he will most likely be going there. Woot!
Over and out (but the game's not over yet).
Speaking of which, I got rejected from a college today. My first, actually. Considering it was a "reach" for me, I will say that I was expecting it. But expecting something and something actually happening are two vastly different things. Mildly disappointed, but I'm already in somewhere I would love to go and still waiting for other schools. Things could be worse.
On the other, one my best best best best friends who is my brother from another mother (one of many) got it, and I am absolutely ecstatic for him. It is in-fucking-credible, and he will most likely be going there. Woot!
Over and out (but the game's not over yet).
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Dictatorship
I feel like I would be a god-awful ruler or dictator. Rewind and re-phrase. My mom thinks that I would be a god-awful ruler or dictator. She knows about my low tolerance for people with an incredible amount of stupidity or a severe lack of common sense. And then she laughed at me because in the "real world," I will be constantly dealing with such people, and they may be in a higher career position than I at times. Buzzkill. So, what does this have to do with being a dictator? I decided that, should I ever be the one to make rules and such for some odd reason, no one who falls under the category of "lacking common sense and/or extremely idiotic" will be allowed to pro-create. Take the octo-mom (or octo-pussy, as Perez Hilton likes to call her) for example. Complete moron. She says that it is God's wish for her to have all these children.
....................
Excuse me? Maybe the fact that you were artificially inseminated is the reason for all your children. Not God's will. Not anyone's will but your own. Not even your mom's will! And now, the world has to deal with a whole new generation running around with her genes. Let's hope that they are stupidity-gene-free.
Back to the new world order... Yeah, no passing on DNA ridden with idiocy. That's all I ask.
Common sense, people. It's not incredibly hard to use it.
P.S. This was a completely random post that was spurred by mom laughing at my ranting and raving at some of the ridiculous acts committed by some of my peers.
....................
Excuse me? Maybe the fact that you were artificially inseminated is the reason for all your children. Not God's will. Not anyone's will but your own. Not even your mom's will! And now, the world has to deal with a whole new generation running around with her genes. Let's hope that they are stupidity-gene-free.
Back to the new world order... Yeah, no passing on DNA ridden with idiocy. That's all I ask.
Common sense, people. It's not incredibly hard to use it.
P.S. This was a completely random post that was spurred by mom laughing at my ranting and raving at some of the ridiculous acts committed by some of my peers.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Confusion and Frustration
... but mostly frustration.
I don't think that I have ever hated a class or teacher as much as I do my English class this year. I'll take my 6th grade science teacher over her, and he threw stools and slammed doors. Anyway, contrary to belief, I like English; reading is one of my favorite pasttimes, and good literature never ceases to amaze me. I did not sign up for AP Literature and Composition simply because of the points it would add to my GPA (though, I admit, that definitely played a factor), rather so I could better myself in writing and possibly read some great books. Is that so much to ask? But I digress...
Today, my teacher (who shall remain nameless) decides to go over study questions (requiring much more analysis as opposed to "find the answer in the book" sort of stuff) for Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad (not particularly interesting to me but I deal). For some reason unbeknowest to myself, this week she has been unmotivated to teach at all. Like yesterday, we went over questions without so much as a correction and then she gets annoyed when we don't have the right answer and has us do a writing assignment on something already correctly and thoroughly answered by a student. Moving on to today... The questions become more of a pop quiz: each of us is assigned 2-3 questions from the packet that should have already been filled out, and we present our answers for the class to take notes. Not only is that annoying (I'm not one for public speaking), but it is also no help what-so-ever. She did not make an effort to even correct us. One guy presents his answer and she says (and I quote) "Mhm... that doesn't seem right" and proceeds to type in his grade on the computer in front of her face. Would it have been stupid of me to ask her "Then what is the right answer?" Whatever, I can deal with that; however, with her following actions, I could not.
Another student proceeds to share his answer with the class. What he says never came across my thoughts as I read the book yesterday. So, I think to myself "Where did he find that? He's either looking way into the text or it's probably from Sparknotes". But it's really none of my business. Turns out, it's the latter, and our teacher goes insane. Not the overly dramatic, wild insane, but the quiet anger and frustration with wide eyes that stare at you as if it will melt the flesh off your face. She goes on a tangent about how we, as a class, are unable to think for ourselves and rely on other sources to tell us what we are reading... What.the.fuck. Just because one person shares outside information does not mean the entire class uses it as well.
And after her lovely speech, she tells us "I'm done for today," and goes to her desk to sit. Oh, but not before explaining that we have an essay tomorrow and that she will be scouring Sparknotes tonight to ensure that we do not plagerize.
The cherry on top of this is that after class, she holds back a group of students (myself included) telling us that we must attend an optional writing workshop to improve our essay writing skills. For the record, in this group of students, is one of the few people who holds an A in the class, and as for myself, she used my thesis paragraph as a good example not too long ago. Why the hell should I go to this shit when I fully know that I am a better writer than some not required to do so?
Enough of my ranting. Maybe a little "Open Happiness" will cheer me up...
Title Credit: Sum 41
I don't think that I have ever hated a class or teacher as much as I do my English class this year. I'll take my 6th grade science teacher over her, and he threw stools and slammed doors. Anyway, contrary to belief, I like English; reading is one of my favorite pasttimes, and good literature never ceases to amaze me. I did not sign up for AP Literature and Composition simply because of the points it would add to my GPA (though, I admit, that definitely played a factor), rather so I could better myself in writing and possibly read some great books. Is that so much to ask? But I digress...
Today, my teacher (who shall remain nameless) decides to go over study questions (requiring much more analysis as opposed to "find the answer in the book" sort of stuff) for Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad (not particularly interesting to me but I deal). For some reason unbeknowest to myself, this week she has been unmotivated to teach at all. Like yesterday, we went over questions without so much as a correction and then she gets annoyed when we don't have the right answer and has us do a writing assignment on something already correctly and thoroughly answered by a student. Moving on to today... The questions become more of a pop quiz: each of us is assigned 2-3 questions from the packet that should have already been filled out, and we present our answers for the class to take notes. Not only is that annoying (I'm not one for public speaking), but it is also no help what-so-ever. She did not make an effort to even correct us. One guy presents his answer and she says (and I quote) "Mhm... that doesn't seem right" and proceeds to type in his grade on the computer in front of her face. Would it have been stupid of me to ask her "Then what is the right answer?" Whatever, I can deal with that; however, with her following actions, I could not.
Another student proceeds to share his answer with the class. What he says never came across my thoughts as I read the book yesterday. So, I think to myself "Where did he find that? He's either looking way into the text or it's probably from Sparknotes". But it's really none of my business. Turns out, it's the latter, and our teacher goes insane. Not the overly dramatic, wild insane, but the quiet anger and frustration with wide eyes that stare at you as if it will melt the flesh off your face. She goes on a tangent about how we, as a class, are unable to think for ourselves and rely on other sources to tell us what we are reading... What.the.fuck. Just because one person shares outside information does not mean the entire class uses it as well.
And after her lovely speech, she tells us "I'm done for today," and goes to her desk to sit. Oh, but not before explaining that we have an essay tomorrow and that she will be scouring Sparknotes tonight to ensure that we do not plagerize.
The cherry on top of this is that after class, she holds back a group of students (myself included) telling us that we must attend an optional writing workshop to improve our essay writing skills. For the record, in this group of students, is one of the few people who holds an A in the class, and as for myself, she used my thesis paragraph as a good example not too long ago. Why the hell should I go to this shit when I fully know that I am a better writer than some not required to do so?
Enough of my ranting. Maybe a little "Open Happiness" will cheer me up...
Title Credit: Sum 41
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
