To Catch Up...

Yet another list, because I don't want to put in the effort of describing things in full sentences after writing a three page paper on Jascha Heifetz.

1. AP Psych Boy is now my boyfriend/Mr. Right (so far). (Oh my God. Dream come true. Just saying.)
2. College isn't hard, it's tedious. Which is hard, but in a way they don't warn you about.
3. I'm over 100 lbs. for the first time in three years. (YESH.)
4. I eat a lot of fish these days, because I want Omega 3s so I have shapely hips and smart babies.
5. I'm hungry...
6. After two months of dawdling in my dorm room, or hanging out with Mr. Right-so-far, I'm finally making college buddies.
7. I really miss my high school buddies. And my sister. And my mom. Especially the latter two.
8. I still talk about Europe like I'm some high class cosmopolite, even though I was only there for two weeks, and I am faaaaar from high class...
9. They don't lie about being broke in college.
10. I wish it would snow already, because I'm tired of dead leaves.

ALSOOOOOOO....
Actually, fuck it, I don't know.
I'm really hungry though.
Chai me, babe.

I'm Sorry-ology.

I have always been good at having best friends. It's almost always two or three best friends who I can juggle around (with love, of course). Because I'm loyal, I guess. Which could just be a euphimism for territorial and possessive... Possibly jealous, too. I'm like a dog. I have a few good masters, who I love. However. I don't necessarily behave all the time. Sometimes I piss on the floor.

Figuratively, of course.

At the same time, I haven't ever been particularly good at being a best friend. I am easily lead astray and manipulated. It's happened before plenty, and it screws up my relationships to the point where I have to start over completely. Not that I regret those happenings- I'm actually quite glad I was lead astray in retrospect. But still.

I've been wondering a lot to myself lately what I bring to my relationships. I don't feel like it's a lot. I'm a good listener, I suppose. But what else? I feel like I take more than I give, and I don't like that at all. I need to figure out how to be a better friend. For real.

Um.
Yeah.
Mlehhhhh. I've probably already used this song, but I love it so much.

Things I Learned in Europe.

-You should have a license to ride a bike in Copenhagen. (I looked incredibly... American.)

-Wearing black is awesome. On all continents.

-"A day is like a whole life. You start out doing one thing, but end up doing something else, plan to run an errand, but never get there.... And at the end of your life, your whole existence has that same haphazard quality, too. Your whole life has the same shape as a single day." -Dr. Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park (Michael Crichton)

-Saying you're going to do something and actually doing it are two very different things.

-Hell will be an airport.

-Always carry a pen.

-True friends stay friends, no matter the circumstances.

-When life seems like a dream, keep sleeping. As long as possible.

-The ocean is actually very salty (I didn't put two and two together until I jumped in.)

-Velociraptors can jump very high, probably.

-Every castle is basically the same.

-The sky is different in Europe, but the stars are the same.

-When you want to do something awesome, you should do it. Because if you sit around waiting for that perfect moment, it won't happen. You have to initiate things, because fate is only there to help keep the ball rolling, not score the goal.

-Life is fucking awesome.

T Minus 4 Hours to Take Off.

An incredible streak of luck has punched me in square in the jaw.
In fact, a good sixty percent of that luck has to deal with a boy. But not just any boy.

AP Psych Boy.
Yes. THE AP Psych Boy.

Who I had a datey-breakfast-thinger with this very morning. And he wants to be a journalist, so I figured I better write something worth actually reading on this blog for once.
Ummmmm. But I don't know what to write about. Honestly, nothing quite that inspirational or insightful runs through my head these days. Other than the whole Bildungsroman-style "live life to the fullest!" stuff. Which, I'll admit, has worked incredibly well for me.
I just hope these lucky coincidences I've been having lately aren't a fluke. I trust in God that they are not... but of course, I wouldn't be me without the mistrusting, speculative part of my brain taking over at least some of the time.

So. Dear AP Psych Boy, if you happen to read this:
Though I told you I love to write, I will leave it up to your sound judgement whether or not I actually am good at it. And if I'm not, well. I suppose I'll just keep writing blogs about stupid teenage girl stuff, like boys, money, and Germany, and not caring about whether I sound like a naive little fool. (:

Come What May.

I'm such a little girl when it comes to liking a boy. I have flutterbies in my stomach, and I feel like I should be reading some guide book so I know exactly how to act and what to say... But so far, just being me has gotten me pretty far. And it's about damn time, considering "just be you!" has been my dating motto since a very unsuccessful middle school and fairly unsuccessful high school run.

I shouldn't say that all of high school was unsuccessful. The later half was definitely a lot better than freshman and sophomore year. But right now? Right now life is pretty awesome.
I wish I could give more details, but I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed! And I love admitting it! Because I have butterflies in my stomach and I blush and smile when I think about him!

On the other hand, I need to calm the fuck down.
Because that romantic side of me is going waaaaay overboard. And I need to think realistically.
But last night I thanked God many a time. Because He's guided me through this better than "the Smart Girls Guide to Boys" ever could. Just saying.

I'm a freshman! No longer is high school Paige going to be held back. Um. Yeah.
Wow, this is a really sad song for how good I'm feeling... But I love it anyways.

O, Fortuna! (Cookies)

Today, during a terribly boring freshman orientation, I had good luck. And this was before I even got the fortune cookie from my dinner saying "good luck is coming your way." But I'll start from the beginning.

First of all, I got placed in a group of pretty great people- the arts people. Awhhh yeahh. No, but honestly, I forgot how great being in a community of artists is (seeing as the last time I was in an art's school was a year and a half ago now).
Second of all, in this group of people, I had a very good friend that I already knew as a 'mentor,' a newer friend through a music camp that I already knew, and there were several people I met who could easily become my friends. If I choose to actually pursue those friendships once the school year starts. I don't see why not, but you know, Orientation friends never end up being real friends... At least in my experience.

Third of all, of these potential friends, there were at least two very attractive boys. Film majors, to be exact. And I didn't even chicken out on meeting them! I walked right up to Film boy #1 and started conversation, introduced myself, and we ate together. Film boy #2 was in my trivia group, and I not only openly smiled at him, but introduced myself and sat next to him during a boring lecture on financial aid. I feel quite accomplished. I don't know if it's my new hair cut/dye, or the whole 'starting over' feeling that I'm getting from this college ordeal, or what. But I am feeling pretty good about everything right now.

I think it's true. Luck is coming my way. Even if it's just a silly self fulfilling prophecy.

Over-Romantic Syndrome?

When does an overactive imagination become... schizophrenia/PMD/stupid bullshit?

For some reason, the idea of a college dropout is semi-romantic to me. Not that I would EVER do such a thing. A high school drop out is a pathetic idea to me, but dropping out of college because of money issues, or because of bad grades after trying to be a successful college kid seems transcendental. You're just another college drop out. You're small and insignificant in the universe. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, as depressing as it may be/feel.

I've been trying to write a song about it.
I've been writing songs lately! Well, kind of. I picked up the ukelele that my mom bought me when she went to Florida for Christmas a few years ago. It's nice. I'm finally writing music again. Kinda.

On a separate tangent, it's nice to trick yourself into being in love for a while. I mean. That may seem overly dramaticromanticwhattheshit, but. Yeah. Falling asleep and just picturing a specific face in your head, and just smiling about him... It's nice. Even when it isn't real. At all. And then you wake up and it's gone! No legitimate falling in love or heartbreak needed. Disclaimer: You shouldn't, however, do this often, I feel. That could lead to some serious mental issues.

I need to go get my meds refilled. Oofta. ^^;

I'm Gonna Make Him- er, it- Mine.

Sometimes, fate throws you a piece of candy from its float.
After a wonderful week in Madison at the Summer Music Clinic, grad parties last night and today, and semi-flirting/making eye contact and smiling at an attractive boy, I'd say that I'm in a pretty good mood. It's just weird because I don't know what to... do next. I don't know. I'm so happy, but I have a feeling that life and reality are ready to come crashing down on me at any moment.

And that boy? Happened to be AP Psych Boy. And though I didn't really say hello or introduce myself like I maybe should have, The fact that I caught him glancing at me while I quickly glanced at him, and he tried to be a part of my conversation at a grad party, and he seemed to be impressed and admiring of my double major in music and psych... It's just really great. When I was a sophomore, I called it 'my heart pumping hope.' Now, I've realized, it's just excitement. Life is exciting now. It's so precious. Which is scary. Because I want it to stay that way.

My granddad is dieing. He had an aneurism like, a decade ago, and two heart attacks this week alone, along with kidney failure and pneumonia. I don't know the guy at all, and I know he's not exactly a hero or a good man, but still. It gets to you. Mortality is freaky shit. Ugh. I hope I'm living my life to the fullest, I'd feel guilty if I weren't. I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of not having an impact in life.

I am the Underdog.

One of my favorite TV shows, though it may be a guilty pleasure, is AWKWARD. And it's been in my head a lot lately, not only because the summer premier is coming up within like, the next week, but also because I've been experiencing the 'Jenna +' phenomenon. And it's ridiculously... shitty... feeling. Yeah.

Basically, there's this girl in my friend group or whatever who I admire, but who always seems to be a step ahead of me. She's more social than I am, has more friends than I do, is more confident (at least outwardly) than me, is just that much prettier than I am. She got into my top choice college, but I didn't. She has a boyfriend, and I don't.
Basically, I'm a little jealous, because that could be me in every way, but it's just not. And I know I should just be accepting of it, because I'm not her and she's not me. I'm an accepting person, I take things as they are and don't try to change them often. But really? This girl is so aggravating...  and yet I can't help but want to be her friend.

I've found recently that I can be quite the jealous bitch. It's a saddening revelation, and I really don't like it. Maybe it's not so much jealousy, as much as it is accepting the circumstances, but still not being happy with them. I don't know. I'm not making much sense right now.

And on top of it, I don't think I can be. I think we simply just don't click as individuals; though that may just be my jealousy. Plus, I'm pretty sure her boyfriend pretty much just doesn't like me as a person. Which is dumb, in my opinion, because I haven't done anything to make him dislike me. Ugh. I don't know. I'm so ready to go to college.

CAWLEDGE, I NEED JU.

Pissing and Moaning, Ep. 2

Oh God, where do I even start?
So much has been going through my mind for the past couple of days, I wish I could just numb myself with happiness. Oofta, that sounded really melodramatic. See what I mean?!
I feel very unloved by my friends, and I don't know if it is me, or them, or a combination of both... But the part that weirded me out most about all of this, is when I finally talked to my mom about it, she said, "I think you'll just need to talk to them."

It's not that I have been avoiding that, it's that I haven't even thought about it. Which proves that it's probably me, and not them. Or they're reacting to me. Maybe I'm the one being distant and cold, not them. Or maybe they're being distant and cold, and I'm sitting in my kitchen writing this blog in the fetal position because I feel so alone. Ughhhhhh.
Guyssss, why don't you love me? Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkk.

Either I need to confront them, or I need to get my meds bumped up. But I'll probably have to do one before the other. Because God knows I'm handling this this way due to some imbalanced brain chemical thingers.

Another Letter To Another Boy.

Dear Mr. O'Biewankanobie,
(See what I did there?)
For some reason or another, whenever I am in your presence I feel beautiful. It's a very strange phenomenon, as I do not have feelings for you; I hardly know you at all. But maybe that's why you're such a player (or at least, so I've heard, I can't judge you based on rumors). I don't know if it is coincidence, intentional, by accident, or if I'm the only one who has felt this odd sensation of random esteem, though I suspect I'm not. Either way, thanks for that. It's nice.

It makes me want to get to know you. You are a puzzle that I'm trying desperately (well, not desperately, that's a bit dramamtic) to put together. Ugh. I wish you'd be my friend. Which, I could totally pursue that, but it feels weird to think about that kinda thing right now. Because you know. I'd rather not make friends before I move off to college, though I should never want to not make friends. Ya know? 'Kay cool.

Your dearest, loveliest admirer,
Paige.

Weird Days Lie Ahead.

Today is a weird day. It's not particularly good or particularly bad, but, just... weird.
For instance, I played the third movement of Tchaikovsky all the way through, which I have to play for my senior recital in about a month. It was not very good, which makes me nervous. But playing it back, I have a really great sound quality and musicality... so it doesn't sound as terrible as I thought it did. Because my musicality made up for a lot of it. hahahahahahahahahafdslololololololol.
so. That's weird. I don't know how to feel about it. I wasn't tired at the end, which is awesome. But I'm nervous, because I want my senior recital to be like, "OH MY GOD SHE IS MARVELOUS!" rather than "OH MY GOD SHE HAS GREAT SOUND but she should really work more on her technique, I wonder how often she practices. hhhmmmmmm."

I also have a feeling this summer is going to fly by. Every weekend I have either a grad party, or I'll be out of the country, and in between, I'll be babysitting and partying, both full time. Not much sleep is scheduled for my summer. Oh, right, and I plan on practicing like, five hours a dayish. Maybe only three. Three will suffice. I've been doing 2-3 all school year. Three will suffice.
 Then again, maybe it'll go really slowly and achingly. Because babysitting, though awesomely rewarding and fun most of the time, can be agonizingly tiring and annoying as shit.

I need money. Bad. BAAAAAAAAAAAD. I need new strings before college (which I've decided I'm going to get Dominants, not Evah Pirazzi's so that they a. last longer and b. cost less), probably a bow rehair, hopefully a head rehair (see what I did there?), and you know. Denmark/Germany money.
I can't wait. This damn well be the best summer ever, or else it's just going to be a lot of,
         "I hope I'm not broke, I hope I'm not broke, I hope I'm not broooooooke!"

O Mio Babbino Caro

I think instead of making my kids Disney Princess Junkies, I'll make them opera junkies. Though the stories are often brutal, I can save the details of the stories behind the music for later. I'll get them dolls of Madame Butterfly, Cunegonde, and Tosca rather than Belle, Cinderella and Snow White. Though, Jasmine was quite the feminist. So that's cool, maybe I'll include her.

I have a lot going on in my head lately, most of it being negative and saddish, which isn't totally what I want, but sometimes you have to deal, right? Right. So.

For instance (and be warned, this is per-so-nal shit right here), my dad was in jail for a few days, so I didn't think he would be able to come to my graduation ceremony. And I was relieved, because then the horrible decision making process of 'do I invite a man who has been absent from my life to my graduation or not?' was automatically made. So I gave his ticket away. And then he got out of jail, and my grandmother was asking me for another ticket, and I had to tell her he couldn't go because I couldn't buy more tickets at this point, and blah blah blah... and again, I'm relieved, because I didn't want him to go. Honestly, I didn't; I don't think he has the right to go to every positive event in my life, but not be there for the negative or any of the fluff in between due to his drug and alcohol addiction. But then again, God knew I would've caved in to my grandma, so he didn't really give me much of an option. Or at least, he facilitated my decision making process.

I really needed to get that out. I tried telling my friends, and my family doesn't quite get it because you know, they're all dealing with the same thing and they think I have a wall around me that allows me to make decisions without my right brain getting the best of me. But it just doesn't feel legitimate. It's not like they don't care. It's just like... it isn't natural telling them or confiding that kind of thing to them. I'd rather write.

Pissing and Moaning, Ep. 1

EVERYTHING IS GETTING TO ME LATELY.
It's saddening and annoying and aggravating and I have quite the headache now.
What am I supposed to do? I'm trying desperately to look at the world through rose colored glasses. But my glasses are just prescribed as -7.5 in each eye. And I don't have contacts to wear anything else as of now. Because I'm broke.

You know how they say you should vent to a friend, but no longer that fifteen minutes? I think that's my problem. I vent on and off all day. And a lot of what I'm complaining about, I don't even quite know how it bothers me.
But the worst part (or maybe the best part, I don't know) about all of this is the fact that I feel desperately like telling my 'best friends' how it fucking is. I already wrote one girl a really mean letter, but I didn't send it to her because it wasn't worth it, she's out of my life now and that's all that I needed; just to get the fuck away from that poisoned relationship.

But let me just make a quick list. For every bad thing I list, I have to list a good thing. That's legitimate, right?
1. My teacher Mrs. Cox? Is a total bitch, and I'm fucking sick of her. In the halls on Fridays, we normally have music in the hallways via the loud speaker, but as a senior 'prank' we played live music and carted around an organ. AND SHE YELLED AT US! After we got permission from the principal. UGHHGHGHGHGHHHHH.
1*. I recently wrote a pretty awesome essay on the psychological development of Harry Potter.
2. I live in Wisconsin, and the only person who actually drove speed limit today was a FIB. I almost died.
2*. It is a beautiful dayyyyyy!
3. Jade and I went to go take photos at a boat landing, and some douche bag yelled at us for parking in a parking spot. IT'S A FUCKING PARKING SPOT, GET THE HELL OVER IT! He wasn't even parked there, he had a better spot open for him.
3*. Jade and I got to see some of our elementary school friends we haven't seen in years, and it made her really happy, and I was incredibly glad to see her smile for the first time in a few days.
4. I have a constant anxious feeling in my gut lately, and I have to do a lot of laundry, put oil in my car, and I think probably just get the hell out of town for a day. Or something.
4*. I have moles on my belly that make my belly look sexay.
5. I'm super scared to even put on a swimsuit in public, because I think I look gross. Adding onto the gross factor, I have to wear my glasses lately, and I'm breaking out.
5*. I got to hang out with Autumn last night, and we watched Amelie! And I really enjoyed it :D
6. I am interested or at least physically attracted to several boys, all of which are completely unattainable. Mostly because a) I don't actually know them (long story for another blog) or b) because the 'time' isn't right. Because the time is never right. because I'm a coward.
6*. I have a wonderful immediate family who loves me.
7. My dad isn't coming to my graduation ceremony. I don't want him to, and I gave his ticket away, but I have a feeling my grandmother will give him hers anyway. I just don't want to deal with any of that.
7*. I have gotten sufficient sleep this weekend, to the point where I woke up at 9:20 am this morning, all by myself. :3
8. I think I have paranoid schizophrenia. I fell asleep on the couch the other night with a knife on the coffee table next to me because I thought there was somebody in my basement. Or else, I'm just fucking bat shit crazy, or manic depressive with a hint of PMD, or something.
8*. I've got nothin'.

Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad dayyyyysssssss.

Just Because I'm Poor, Plain, and Little...

Last night I called my mom a bitch.
Ouch, right? I shouldn't have done it. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeno. And I apologized this morning.
But you seeeeeee, there are a lot of girls that I've come into contact with recently who are patronizing, catty, and passive-aggressive. Now I'm not naming names- but they're really getting to me. I really sometimes want to blow up at them. And when your mom starts reminding you of them... well. Let's just say, I lost a little hope for womankind. It's not that hard to be a well-tempered, level-headed female individual.

Then again, maybe it's me who is the weird ass. Maybe I'm not patronizing, catty, or passive-aggressive enough. My friends and I recently celebrated our adulthood by stopping by the local sex shop. I didn't realize how incredibly awkward I would feel. Everywhere I looked- oofta. I should've known, but it didn't really sink in until it was... all around me.
I've been focused so much on my romantic complex, I don't even know what it feels like anymore to just simply be... turned on. I can be like, "Oh gosh, my heart is pounding, and I have butterflies in my stomach!" But I can't be like, "Mhm, I'd tap dat." Well, you know what I mean. I need to rediscover my sexuality as a human being.

If that was too much information, I'm really sorry. But I had to say it.

Call Me, Maybe?

nuaifkdsjafkdlsajtjasdtiokldthatmomentwhenyourheartjumpsoutofyourchestbecauseyoufinallyfeelwanted.
I have felt so alone lately, so it's really nice to know someone values your presence and/or opinion.

But enough of that mopey shit.
I have a resolution. And I think it's time to make it official. By... writing it on my blog...
But let me start at the beginning of the story.
It was a Monday.

And it also happened to be the day of the AP Psychology test. I was waiting in the lobby, talking to some people, and then I got bored, and noticed a lot of my friends were outside in this circle right outside the door. So I went out to join them, and I didn't even notice the super amazingly attractive guy who was laughing with me until he said a joke directly to me, and I absent mindedly ignored him. I've been doing that a lot lately, mostly because I don't ever realize that I'm important enough to be spoken too. And during the AP test break, I was totally going to go up to him and just be like,
   "Yeah, sooooo. You are incredibly attractive, and I just wanted to let you know that."
BUT I DIDN'T. And I wanted to slap myself across the face, because I honestly had nothing to lose.

And then, this past Saturday, Jade, my two grandmothers, my mom, and I went to Buffalo Wild Wings for Jade's birthday, and four young Germans were behind our table, watching soccer. And I was totally going to be like,
    "Ich habe euch gehoeren, und ich wollte 'hallo' sagen.!"
But I didn't. :/ Even though, again, I had nothing to lose.

Yesterday, I was reading this blog that my friend showed me, and he said, "if you're scared of it, you should go for it anyway," or something along those lines. (In another post he also said, "don't ignore your gut, if you feel hesitant about something, thousands of years of evolution probably back it up." But that's beside the point.)
If the best way to not be a loner is to not be a loner, then the best way to make friends and have fun, is to make friends and have fun. I think I'm gonna start living by that.
So, yeah.
If I ever see Mr. AP Psych guy again, I'm definitely going to say hello.


Oh God, I don't really like this song, but it's so damn appropriate.

Golden Skies Are Here.

On a day like today, it is only customary to tie a button up in a knot in a midriff bearing manner. Summer is sooooooo closeeeeeeee and I need it.
SO BAD.

On the other hand I'm really not looking forward to it. Because I don't know that I trust that my friends will break me out of my house when I sit around, cooped up. There was one person who did that- who kept their promise the summer after freshman year. But you know. Then I fell in love with him or whatever, and screwed that all up.
Whoever wants to promise to steal me away from home this summer, I promise not to secretly fall in love with you, and then go on a crazy catharsis rant when you act awkward when I finally tell you that I've loved you all along and freak out and ruin our friendship. I promise, that if by any chance in fate's game of bingo I fall in love with you, I'll be as blunt as possible about it, and you will have full right to slap me across the face, or crazy catharsis rant at me, or whatever. 'Kay cool.

But you know, there's that full time job,  and then violin, and then packing and moving to college, and graduation parties, and my senior recital... So it should be a pretty great summer. I'm pretty pumped just not to be in school.

I'll have to start thinking of a summer project... Or you know. 500.

Nostalgiosis.

My wrist hurts. I can't play violin. What the hell I am supposed to do with my off hours if I can't practice?! This sucks so much. Oh my God.
Also, when I don't practice, I think. And when I think, I over think. And when I over think, I write poetry. Poetry that sounds way too much like Emily Dickinson's poetry. But not as good.
And then I read stuff I wrote when I was a sophomore, and I smile because I like sophomore me, but I wish I could have told her to follow her gut more. To focus on her grades, on her music. On her TECHNIQUE. And to be confident. And to quit her Charter school... I am so much better without that. Wow. And to save some money up too, because I'm totally broke now. Ha.

-------------------
I'm Nobody! Who Are You?
by Emily Dickinson

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

-------
My Dearest One
by Paige Erickson

My dearest one-
Dearest, invisible, invincible one.
I am invisible too.
However through your eyes
I am not dear,
And so vincible by you.

I Can't Tell If This Is About Me, Or Him.

Dear Friend,
Though we haven't spoken for quite some time, I saw you today and we kind of talked for a little bit. I would like to express how UTTERLY PISSED OFF I AM AT YOU.
Because I cannot give many details without revealing who you are, I am going to keep this as vague as possible. Because everybody knows, I'm all talk, and would never actually say this to your face. Though, I don't really have a lot to lose.
YOU ARE A PUSSY. You are a coward. Legitimately. You are either scared as shit at the thought that you'll be alone for a while, or you were too scared to just tell me, "no, Paige, I do not want to such and such a thing falafal," for fear of hurting my feelings or something. Honestly, if you thought that we were going to be friends for a long time after high school ended, I am very surprised, because I didn't. And that isn't saying I wouldn't want to be, but rather that it was unlikely, as we just became friends as of.........January?
Back to my being pissed off- You should grow some balls, because if you don't, I'll rip your dick off so that you're fully a girl, and not just half of a man. There will be no testosterone left in your body.
I really like you as a person, and for a while, I liked you as more than that.* And you have problems in your life other people can't even imagine, but we all do.
I don't know if this catharsis thing is because you're an easy target to throw all of my built up frustrations at, or if this is projection**, or if I truly feel this way.
But again, be a man, because I'm really sick of you acting like a wishy washy little bitch.

♥, Paige.


*Please note, blog readers, this is the guy I couldn't figure out if I liked immediately after Mr. New Guy, not Mr. New Guy.
**the psychological defense mechanism.

To Do List.

  Thursdey.
     - AP English Test
     - Duet-y Lesson with Autumn (for which I haven't practiced due to a pained wrist)
  Fridey.
     - AP German Test
     - Study with Autumn (AP Bio)
  Saturdey.
     - PROM.
  Sundey.
     - AP Bio study group (which may just be me...)
  Mondey.
     - AP Bio Test
     - DIE OF EXHAUSTION.
  Saturdey the 19th.
     - Be resurrected.
     - Celebrate my lovely sister's birthday.
  Sunday the 20th.
     - Play Saint Saens with the school orchestra.
  June 7th.
     - Fuck da police.?
     - Not go to school. for ever again.

Death and a Maiden.

A few weeks ago, I woke up to a really bright light in the middle of the night.
I didn't have my glasses on or contacts in, so I couldn't see the source of the light, but it was round and it was getting bigger. And I thought to myself, "Oh my God, this is it. This is the end." And I prayed. and I told God how thankful I was for my life, and how I wish I could have done more, and I started crying just a little bit.

And then I put on my glasses, and realized it was the moon, and my eyes were trying to focus on it in the dark of my room. That was the first time I've ever experienced the hallucinations of stage one sleep. But anyway.

I thought it was hilarious. And guess what?
I wasn't scared that much. I was very accepting. Which is amazing to me. Because you often say you will act a certain way in a certain situation, but you know it's possible that could definitely not be the case. Like helping someone in need, or defying a wrongful authority. I thought that was how I would act about death, but, it was really good to feel like- yes. I am accepting of death.
So yeah.

Arm Linking.

When I was in second grade, I had a best friend (Mykayla), and whenever we didn't play four square during recess, we linked arms and talked about womanhood (what little we knew of it). It was our thing.
Then I switched schools, and I found a different best friend (Miranda), and we linked arms in the hallways, and talked about boys, and how our future husbands would be.
I switched schools again, and found another different best friend (Evie) and we linked arms and walked around, talking about middle school and how we were getting so grown up.
Then I went to middle school, and I found a best friend there (Cambria). Our moms were best friends too, so we spent a lot of time together, and of course, linked arms.
Then I got to high school, and I had a best friend (Jose) who I linked arms with.
But now, I'm a senior and I don't really have anyone to link arms with. It's a specific kind of friendship that enables arm linking, and though I have a few best friends now, I keep focusing on how much I want to link arms with a boy. A guy. A man.


I'm so good at being a best friend... So... I guess the next step is to figure out how to be a good significant other. Or you know, find a guy in general.

It's so funny how the least significant things in your life can end up being a very important constant. You only miss what's not there.
Also, this was totally my song in tenth grade.

Collegiate Blathering.

Today in AP Psychology, whilst studying social psych, we finally went over attraction.
Based on the Schacter-Singer Two Factor Theory, (emotion = physical response + a cognitive label), attraction = physical arousal + attribution. A fundamental attribution error could explain why sometimes these attractions are illegitimate, as we apply our attribution/cognitive label to the person's disposition, and not the situation. In English, this means that girls (I) often like guys not because we are (I am) genuinely attracted to them, but because we (I) think they are good looking, and are nice and funny in general, rather than being a good match for us (me).

Basically, our teacher said this, and I was all like, "MIND BLOWN." But it was the middle of class, so didn't actually say anything. I haven't really been saying a lot at all recently. I'm regressing into these awful communication issues I used to have, where I felt expressing myself to my friends, or seeking a 'shoulder to cry on,' is more of a burden to them than a necessity to me.
Also, it's so much easier to write about my thoughts than say them.
I'm going to go to bed I think.

Speak Slow.

I forgot what it was like not being on medication. It sucks. I could hardly smile today. That must be why I dislike everything so much lately. Anyway. I wanted to focus on something other than me for now, considering I read my most recent posts, and they were all extremely self concerned, and that gets boring after a while. So.

gjfdaigkrsehvunifsgjrsehgirjesgrhdfmehhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooican'tthinkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
MyPROMDRESS IS ON THE WAY TO MY HOUSE IT IS ON THE WAY AND I WILL WEAR IT VERY SOON AND YOU CAN'T HEAR ME RIGHT NOW BUT I'M SINGING VERY LOUD IN MY HOUSEHOLD AND THIS IS A VERY LONG SENTENCE. *timpani roll* MY CATS ARE ADORABLE.

I think I'm going crazy.
But honestly, I have nothing interesting to say right now.
Except for the fact that when it comes to infatuation, I am a wishy washy woman, washing all day. I think that's the thing with infatuation. When you want it in your life, it doesn't matter who it's aimed at or if it makes sense. It just consumes you.
But then again, I may not want infatuation in my life. I think I just want to know what it is like to be happy for right now. I need summer.

Shut Up, You Suck.

I have come to a realization. Not recently, but today it was emphasized by... events.
Some people just really suck. Some people just deserve to be told,
"You suck. Go away. I don't like you."
Or hit. That would work to.
Yes, I understand it's a little cynical, but it's absolutely true. I try very hard to see the best in people- in everybody, because good qualities are universal. However today just laughed at me and then kicked me in the gut. Unfortunately, my best friend Alyssa and I have been not feeling the love recently, and we conversed over the subject during a passing time. School is just getting to be way to much of a hassle. Why would you want to go somewhere if you don't have any actual work to do, and nobody likes you while you're there? (Realistically, I know I'm not disliked by everybody, but appreciation is hard to come by these days.)

Enough of that mopey bullshit, though. On the bright side of things, I did my homework for AP Bio and actually understood it, I got to hang out with a good friend tonight, and pit rehearsal for our school musical went splendidly, as I made laugh-worthy jokes, played Tchaikovsky (well) at ♫ = 130 during warm up, and felt a sense of belonging.

There- three reasons why my day was not the worst day ever. (:

I'm Gonna Eat a lot o' Peaches. By Myself.

Today in Sociology, we were reviewing Karen Horney's ideas of the four selves and self defense mechanisms. And I realized- I DON'T LIKE HIM! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Now, for the specifics...

Unfortunately, I came to this realization when I was looking in the mirror today. Isaw myself, but didn't recognize my face immediately. That sort of thing happens only once in a great while, (granted, more this year than ever before) but whenever it does happen, it allows me to see myself from a third party perspective. I can see plainly if I want to change, or stay the same. And thankfully, I don't want to change my appearance. I like how I look. Which is more than I can say I have thought of myself in the past. It's great, actually.

But then I thought about it, and I'm having issues with liking my personality. In the car today, I thought to myself, Why don't you like yourself? First opinions are often wrong. When you don't like somebody simply because of a negative affiliation, just hang out with them and figure out actual reasons you don't like them. Maybe, you just need to spend more time with yourself.
I think that's a good plan. I'll just need to go on a walk, or go shopping by myself, or something. I'm never alone anymore. And being an introvert at heart, that could be why I'm feeling so overwhelmed and tense.

Now, going back to Horney, my defense mechanism for not liking myself- for inner turmoil- is to fall for somebody else. Even if I don't actually like them! You see, I have a lot of physically attractive friends who are nice, smart and talented people. Which makes them... 'easy targets.' I don't know if you would call that reaction formation, or displacement, or... whatever. But I think it is legitimate in its own way.

I may be insane, but at least I have the insight and ability to figure out why.

Better Believe It.

They say self control is a muscle. They also say the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body. Or the heart, if that counts, I'm not really sure. Anyway, I bet my self control muscle is a lot stronger than my tongue or heart. Because honestly, I don't follow my heart a lot. And don't share as much as I should with as many people, leading to a weak tongue. Ew, extended metaphor. You catch my drift though.

But more now than ever, I mus hold my tongue and practice self control. Because if I don't, I will ruin another friendship because of liking somebody. I'm really glad I had the awful shitfest relationship with Spencer that I did, because if I hadn't, I wouldn't catch the warning signs that I am seeing now, and I'd be pretty sad again. I'd be falling in love again, unprepared, and totally just. eaufedsafeimaoc. yeah.

I also realized what a blow to the ego my last 'break up' was, even though it was mutual, and was an extremely rational decision on both of our parts. Why can't I love myself again? Ugh. This is the worst. It makes me so sad. Then again, I haven't taken my SSRI in a few days. So. Now, I am face-masking it and following that up with singing Candide in a hot, steamy shower.



Yeah, I like Disney music, what's it to yah? /:|

French Toast, With A Dash Of Denial.

There's nothing quite like waking up at 8:30 in the morning, making french toast, and listening to Candide. It be-ith a good day.

Even though, for some reason, a lot of anxiety is built up in me. Well, I shouldn't say for 'some' reason. I know why. But it's stupid, and I need to get over it. Right? I mean. Part of it is because of a guy, which is ridiculous. I'm going to college in a mere four months, I really shouldn't be so concerned, or even willing to go for it. I am trying so desperately not to like him, and it's either working (for now) or I'm in denial.

That, and I really wish I had some feed back on music stuff. I'm progressing and everything, it's just leaving me weary without any guidance. I need lessonsssssss!

But hey. For now, I'm just going to enjoy the last twoish months of high school and then summer. And I'm going to try really really hard to not like this guy. God. If I have to come up with another pseudonym, I may die. fjeiawokgbrfeunfircebafsjk.

I Am Amazingly Strange.

There is this contest called, "Are You Pretty Amazing?," and I am trying to write this 1000 character essay for $20,000. That, and to be on the cover of Seventeen Magazine. The prizes are amazing, and are super coveted and worth wanting, but I really just want to communicate my ideas.
The process reminds me a lot of an essay I wrote last year based around NPR's This I Believe. I wrote about humanity, and our amazing capacity for emotion and intelligence, which we should make use of and treasure. And it was incredibly hard to write. Probably because the things that I am most passionate about, I don't know exactly how to express in words. You wanna ask me a thought provoking question? Go for it. But prepare to wait all day for an answer. (It'll probably be super well thought out and insightful, etc., but you'll need to wait for quite some time.)

So. How am I pretty amazing? Pssshhhhhhh. I don't know. I can list accomplishments of mine left to right, tell you my interests, get all philosophical... But I don't want to be amazing. That's not my goal. My goal is to make someone smile. Anyone. Because that's the best.
And I'm obviously not funny enough to do so, so I might as well be sarcastic and insightful. Or play music. Music makes people smile.

I wish I could post this as my essay. But I don't think it's quite what they want. You know. With all. the. fragments. and what. not. teehee.

https://subscribe.hearstmags.com/subscribe/seventeen/91218/IFASP0829?sub_option=1&source=editsite

O For a Man Who Is a Man.

Today, I am in one of those moods. Those girl power, feminist, but still I-want-to-be-as-sexy-as-possible moods.
Maybe it's because I just wrote a feminist-y paper on Jane Eyre. Maybe it's because I read a Thoreau quote this morning about courage (see below). Maybe it's because my local radio station was playing pretty great music today, surprisingly. Song after song I was good with, which is hard when it comes to pop music and me.
But either way, I just danced around my living room in four inch heals for a good twenty minutes.
That, plus Tchaikovsky at ♫ = 120 was pretty much my exercise for the day. I was sweating. A lot. Tchaikovsky is pretty hard. I got it up to ♫ = 100 ish pretty evenly/cleanly. So that made me happy. (: And I have until July to get it up. To... ♫ = 152. So.

"O for a man who is a man, and, as my neighbor says, has a bone in his back which you cannot pass your hand through." - Henry David Thoreau

I want one of those men. Now. Well. One that wants me, too. But you know.

I Am Woman, Hear Me [Talk About Dumb Stuff].

About four years ago, I had my first boy girl sleep over (my mom didn't know then, though she knows now). We were all friends, and no mischief was going to happen. It was just a fun night.
And I called the pull out couch.
And so did two of my guy friends. I remember sleeping on the very edge of the bed all night, uncomfortable, nervous, stiff as a board. And if I would have accidentally cuddled with the guy next to me, because that's just how I sleep (all curled up and hug-y like)? To move would be death.

But I remember waking up at say... 5 : 00 in the morning. And a hand was on my hip.
Maybe it was just the blanket. He probably wasn't awake. He could have just been a curled up hug-y sleeper like me. But I wished that he was awake, fully aware, keeping his love for me secret and just trying to enjoy the moment of me next to him. You know. All that sappy shit.
I tried to breathe slowly; just like when you try to keep quiet during hide and seek. And then I thought, "I need to roll over. Assert myself and my third (which was more now like an eighth) of the bed. He'd take his hand off of my hip, I could go back to sleep, all would be well."
I wished he was smelling my hair. He was soaking me up. He was loving me. Is that so wrong? I realize it may seem neurotic or creepy. But I honestly believe if you dub every action a romantic makes as neurotic or creepy, you wouldn't be able to indulge in the beauty of their daydreams.
I have some pretty awesome daydreams.

Anyway. My point to that little vignette was that today, during one of my sister's photoshoots, we had my friend Casey model with the girls. And they were all so scared of him. Of his touch. Of his fabulous bod. (lol).

I just want somebody to realize I have hips, again.

If Composers Were Colors...

Yes. I really did waste my time doing this.

---

Red -- Paganini / Sarasate  |   Maroon -- Tchaikovsky / Ravel
Orange -- Dvorak   |   Brown -- Bach
Yellow -- Poulenc   |   Gold -- Wagner
Green -- Mozart   |   Green-Blue -- Gershwin
Blue -- Brahms   |   Navy -- Beethoven
Purple -- Mendelssohn   |  Indigo -- Rachmaninoff
Black -- Shostakovich   |   Grey -- Glass 
White -- Chopin   |   Silver -- Bernstein

--

Anyway. I figured out my Senior Recital Repertoire. And it's going to be awesome. I'm super excited. Seriously. I'm so pumped. I just hope that I don't need a five hour nap afterwards, because the repertoire is going to be kind of demanding and tiring.
1. Mozart -- Concerto No. 5, Mvt. 1
2. Tchaikovsky -- Concerto for Violin, Mvts. 2 & 3
3. Dvorak -- American Quartet (Mvt. Undecided)
4. Chopin -- Nocturne in C# minor
3. Sarasate -- Spanish Dance for Two Violins, "Navarre"
 Hmmm. I have a pretty 'bold' repertoire. According to crayola, at least.

Señor Recital?

I've officially decided to try doing a double major in Psychology and Violin Performance. Which should be fun. I don't know. We'll see.

I'm trying to compile my Senior Recital Repertoire. I honestly don't know how long a senior recital is supposed to be. But I really don't want to play Bach for it... It's not that I don't like Bach. It's just that I'm not very good at playing Bach and simultaneously making people like it. Plus, I don't want too many super show-off-y pieces, you know? That could get really annoying really fast.

I thought about learning all of Saint Saens... which could be cool. But. Meh.

Then I though about playing the first movement of Saint Saens and the second and third movements of Tchaikovsky. Which. Would be romantic overload.
Or I could just learn an entirely different concerto. Like Bruch. (awesome.) Or Mendelssohn. (amazing.) And try to play that.... hahaha.

I wish I had a little more guidance. Or lessons... seeing as I haven't taken any of those since December. I could always just ask Yuliya (my kinda teacher) via email, or if we have coffee or something. I'll do that. I'll do some research by myself, narrow my options down
and then go for it. And practice a lot. I have all summer. I can postpone this until August 29th if it comes down to it.

When You Can't Think/Speak/Write, Listen.

After trying, on and off, all day to write a blog about my feelings, I have decided not to. Instead. I'm going to honor Gustav Holst, composer of 'the Planets,' one of the most epic orchestral suites ever. Holst, extraterrestrial planets, and music in general. If I were to set up a concert which I entitled, "the Planets," these would be the representative pieces.

To open the concert, a symphony would play Holst's suite. The movements are as follows:
1. Mars, the Bringer of War
2. Venus, the Bringer of Peace
3. Mercury, the Winged Messenger
4. Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity
5. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age
6. Uranus, the Magician
7. Neptune, the Mystic

Then intermission... and then... a lot of violin solos. (:

1. Mars
Kreisler - Praeludium & Allegro

2. Venus
Beethoven - Concerto for Violin, Mvt. 2

3. Mercury
Saint Saens - Havanaise

4. Jupiter
Mozart - Concerto No. 3, Mvt. 1

5. Saturn
Tchaikovsky - Serenade Melancolique

6. Uranus
Dvorak - Violin Concerto, Mvt. 1

7. Neptune
Szymanowsky - Nocturne & Tarantella


It's really a shame that I'm so bored. But I really like music, so.

How To Cope With Rejection Pt. One

You wanna know how to cope with rejection? You grow some balls. Buuuuut if you can't do that, I came up with some alternatives. Trust me, I'm an expert at coping with rejection. I get rejected all the time! Now, I'd like to share my knowledge with you. ;D

1. Clean!
   A lot! Listen to music while doing this. It keeps you busy. I don't give a shit if you listen to the saddest Bach Sonata out there, or the happiest damn technobullshit you can think of. I prefer to listen to slightly depressing but enlightened and still uplifting music, like that of the soundtrack to (500) Days of Summer. You can also rearrange your bedroom, clean your tub (see option 3), and do the month's worth of laundry on your floor, like I did.

2. Make Art!
   Going back to the productivity argument previously mentioned, you can add creativity to the mix! You can emulate Jackson Pollock and whip paint across your drive way on a canvas, or you can stick to the simple stuff and write a lot of depressive poetry, I don't care! I have two whole albums worth of heartbroken songs!

3. Take a Fucking Bath!
   Get some bath salts, or herbs, or rose petals or whatever you can find in your house and sit inside a hot bath until you think your cells have handled all of the osmosis they possibly can. I also suggest getting all the candles in your house, lighting them, and playing Joss Stone or Amy Winehouse, to give you a little bit of that oomph.

4. Cuddle with Yo Cats!
   Or dogs! Or hamsters! Etc.!

5. Watch the Saddest Movie You Can Think Of!
   The ones I love to cry at include One Day (Anne Hathaway), Titanic, the Notebook, and the small relationship montage in the beginning of Up! This works best if the soundtrack makes you want to cry in itself!

That's all for now! But I'm sure I'll have more to come, as I get rejected on a regular basis! Good luck with your future rejections! :D

An Insight On My Love Life. aaaaand Manga.

I have been wondering lately-
how does one differentiate between knowing that a friend of yours is a catch...
and wanting to be with that friend? How can you tell if you find someone attractive, versus liking somebody? That's what my problem is. I can't decide, differentiate, make sense of anything really.

Besides that, I woke up this morning feeling pretty nostalgic. I want to watch Sailor Moon- maybe get my hands on some old 90s manga by Takeuchi. It's just one of those days where you wish cherry blossoms were falling. In... Wisconsin.



You'll marry me, right Eric?

Da Sua História.

A while back, I was super excited because I was going to finally write that film script I've been dying to come up with. But I haven't really done that. So... I should maybe get to that. Sometimes lately I wish I was bipolar instead of just depressive, because I need those manic episodes to get me through sporadic uncreative dips of time.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhh.
I hate life so much recently, and it makes me feel awful. I feel guilty for being upset with life. Which results in me acting neurotic, which freaks people out. Then, I get pissed off that I'm portraying myself so badly, and then I start acting psychotic... and. I'm driving myself nuts. I sat down in the shower for like, 25 minutes yesterday. Just doing nothing.
And then I was like, hmmmm.
That would be a great scene for my movie.
And then I was like. Hmmmm.
I haven't written that script yet. Damn.
So. I guess we'll see if some Amy Winehouse, latin jazz, and impressionist piano compositions can get me through it.

poempoampeom.

When I was a freshman, Mrs. DeBruin, one of my favorite teachers of all time (R.I.P.) had our English class participate in a poetry unit. We were given prompts, and everyday, each and every one of us had to read our poem aloud. The only poem I wasn't honest in was the one based on the prompt, "I am." I wrote about my contradictory personality and beliefs. My original poem, that I threw out, was about my dad. So. I decided to revisit the prompt today, as a senior in high school, and tell Mrs. DeBruin (and whoever reads this and gets it) the truth about me. (Whoop whoop, depressive shit! ^^;)

---------------------------------------------------

Blue fingers you hold in front of your face,
The eyes that refuse to see as
Your head,
Filled with heavy metals and burnt nerves,
Droops like that dead rose your
Dad gave you four months ago.

Your stomach a stone,
Your Marrow sucked away
From bones as light as birds'
Your rib cage hosts
A rotting heart.


Break with reality and
You don't have to wake up.
Thank God.
You can stop trying.
Your spine doesn't have to break anymore,
It can sleep with the rest of your aspirations.

I am disgusting. I am sickening.
I am watching constantly as you,
With your meat attached to your milky bones,
Walk past me without any transcendent insights.

Sun Sun Su-uh-uhn.

My favorite sound in the world, surprisingly, is not the violin. Or and orchestra or any instrument really, at all. Lo and behold, my favorite sounds are birds' songs.
On a lovely morning. Like today!
You know spring is coming when you can open up your house, you cleaned your bedroom because you wanted to, and you're going out to breakfast because it sounds like a good plan to get up early.
It's just a perfect morning.
It's the kind of morning where you think you're being filmed for a Folger's commercial, even though you're not drinking coffee...
I honestly don't know why I'm rambling on about this. But I really just want to write about it. It's so perfect out. Like... oh my God. I hope it stays this way for my birthday.
How great would it be to wake up on my golden birthday to a perfect golden morning?
I'm only a week away. 1 week.!? fwehaqifjnkewaduiafhjlnweuiakfhbueiafheksahf8e9wiock.
Any way. I bought more red lipstick. Maybe that's the only real reason I'm feeling so optimistic. That totally rhymed. Mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Also.
It's incredible what changing out an old string can do for your confidence. I highly recommend it. teehee.

My Personal Bildungsroman in the Making.

In a mere nine days, I will be 18 years old. It'll be my golden birthday. Annnnddddddd.
All I can think about is how much I want to have my birthday dinner at the Red Lobster...
Because Lobster sounds so good right now.

Shouldn't I be a little more worried? Like... this is a big deal. I suppose I still feel rather 'kid' like because I'll still be in school next year (college, but nonetheless). It's just weird. On one hand, I can't wait to feel homesick, I can't wait to hang out with my music friends, and sing karaoke all night long... But on the other hand. I can't see a negative side- I can't view anything pessimistically. Which in normal person words, means I can't think realistically, and I'm romanticizing all of this. Sooooo. I don't know. It worries me a little bit.

Also, everybody I speak to about Mr. New Guy (everybody being my mom, sister, Alyssa and Casey on study night) think I shouldn't give up on him. But what if I already let everything die out? I remember Peter saying to me before we dated for that brief amount of time, "you know, if we can't date, I'd probably be sad for like, a few days, but I'd move on." It was nothing against me, and I didn't take it offensively at all. Peter's just not that emotional. But the fact that I'm feeling that way right now about Mr. New Guy? That's not like me. I'm an emotional wreck 100% of the time! So what does this mean, my heart is suddenly three times too small? .....well. Frack.

I'm going to be an adult.
Well. Legally at least.
God I want Lobster.

Tchaikovsky is the Only One Who Understands Me ♥

So, last night, I had a study group with my good friends Casey and Alyssa. They never turn out very study-esque, but then again, they are my only source of non-school social interaction besides Youth Symphony. So anyway. The topic of Mr. New Guy came up, and of course, I tell Casey immediately who he is (Alyssa already knew, plus, she's got a sixth sense when it comes to relationship stuff). Casey then tells me...

MR. NEW GUY DOESN'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. Awesome. But...
He is starting to have a thing with another girl. "But I don't think it's my place to tell you who it is."
Of course it isn't, Casey.
Siiiigggggghhhhhhhhh.

So I go to bed at midnightish last night after finishing the homework, and then frantically wake up at 5:35 am because of dream.
An epic dream that made everything make sense.

I know who the other girl is, and have been too blind to realize they are having a thing, and aren't just musically affiliated with each other. Plus, this girl is so super nice, and she's pretty, and would be a lot better for Mr. New Guy than I ever would be. My sister says that I'm basically only 'losing this time around' because I'm not trying. Which I agree with. But I feel really helpless and don't know what to do. It's not like I can just get in the way of his fling!

So I'll just play the sad Canzonetta from Tchaikovsky's violin concerto until my heart is mended, or a new Mr. New Guy comes along. I suppose this is the end of his chapter.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

Some People Just Don't Know When To Quit

Since about last week Wednesday, I have been arguing with my sociology teacher.
I simply asked her for an alternative to sitting in class with my idiot classmates discussing AODA (alcohol and other drugs) and their effects on the individual and family members. Honestly, I've learned about that shit since the day I was born... In counseling since I was like, nine.
So the fact that she had to...
a. Talk to my Psych teacher about overlapping curriculum to prove me wrong on that aspect,
b. Drive me to the nurse's office with the first migraine I've ever had, ever,
c. Drive me then to my guidance Councillor to discuss why she wouldn't assign me an alternative study route,
d. make me cry for a straight fifty minute class period,
e. pry information about my past experiences with drugs and alcohol in a family setting...
all before she could just let me study the assigned material in the library, away from a bunch of my idiotic classmates...
It makes me really, really mad. Like, I want to scream in her face. But I can't. Because you know... that would be disrespectful. Not that any of the above was disrespectful to me, you know...
I realize that this blog itself could be considered highly offensive, were she to see it. But it's not meant to be. This is me ranting. This is me using the catharsis philosophy on anger management to the best of my abilities.

I wish mutual respect among teachers and students would be a more common thing... maybe it is in college. I don't know.
On the bright side (even though it also brings quite a bit of anxiety to me...) I will be an adult in a mere 12 days.
Now, I'm going to listen to the 'best shit on earth,' or my playlist of impressionistic piano music, and wind down.

I wish I had a time traveling machine, so I could be in Paris in 1915, right now.

I am such a nerdyfaceloserpantsromanticviolinist.

So. Before I get to my awesome prom dress find.
I have officially gotten all *1s at solo and ensemble. Since my first year in it, which was seventh grade. So that's exciting. :) We played the waltz from the Dvorak string serenade, and I was so proud of my ensemble. We worked so hard. And we got a *1.

Also, I have reasoned with myself, and I am simply infatuated with Mr. New Guy. I was super scared of my feelings replicating those of the ones I had for Spencer some years ago... And because I rationalized and all that jazz, it makes me feel super good about myself. It proves to me how much I have grown up. I know that the pedestal I put Spencer on is a lot harder to get onto these days when it comes to my crushes.
But at the same time, Mr. New Guy is really great. And it's too bad he's taken. Because I could see myself falling madly for him. Another great thing about the whole growing up dealy? It doesn't pain me like it would have then... It's more just like a "Well... That sucks. Better luck next time," thing, where I totally respect his relationship and like him enough (and care for his happiness enough) to not get in the way of it.

Which is sad.
Because I super duper like him.
Now.
I FOUND IT I FOUND IT I FOUND IT.
I found the perfect dress. And yes, I can buy a knock off. And yes, it will look fabulous. Only, I have no idea what color it will be in. I get to choose any color in the world. So... That's really all I had to say. Except, now, all I have left to find is a date to prom. Or... it'll just be a senior recital dress.

Today Is Not Mai Dae.

Lately I have been feeling like a cocoon. What kind of cocoon you ask?
One where all the muscles inside of me are constricting the gross black sludge of pessimism, trying desperately not to let it leak out onto my porcelain skin or the rest of the beautiful world.

I just want to shoot something. Ughhhhh.
It kind of seems like everything is going wrong right now. My grades are bad, and they won't go back up, I was diagnosed with amenorrhoea (two years. two. years.), along with an eating disorder, I'm playing rather badly lately (as I haven't taken lessons since December), and of course that whole 'trying not to fall head over heels for a guy that should really just be considered my friend' thing.

My brain. is choking. and I. am losing. my. mind.
I need to stop being a teenager, and stop feeling like every little thing is going to make the world end.
So. I guess I'll just take everything out on doing homework. and practicing, and auditioning some more. WFEHWIONDSVIUDLSJSDIOWPGFRBUICNJK. Help?

Deja Vu

I feel it happening alllll over again. And it is so bad. Because I'm trying to reason my way out of feeling for that one guy that I shouldn't like, and I can't.
And so.
I know that the thing that happened when I was a freshman with Spencer?
Yeah, it's happening again. Which is.

SOO BAD.

All of the symptoms are there- you got:
    a. the original attraction
    b. the only seeing him off and on, not constantly (not even speaking with him everyday)
    c. not being particularly close, but at the same time, feeling super close to him
    d. the awkward jokes he makes that involve physical touch and stuff, that make you sparkly eyed even though you know it is soooo wrong to feel that way
    e. finding him incredibly annoying other times
    f. him putting you in a good mood for the rest of forever (well, maybe the rest of the day)
    g. me sitting at home and not getting much other social interaction, so I trick myself into thinking he's the shit.

But. but.
I think I genuinely like him.
It's just that when you start using the L word to describe all of the bullet points above, things get out of control. My head begins to spin, I overanalyze, then I get frustrated because I don't want to use that word, then I say "screw it!" and tell myself that I love him for sure...
And then I believe it. And then it escalates, and then. I tell. everybody.
But him.
Because he's forbidden. Why do I always fall for the forbidden guy? WTF.?!
I can't even write poetry about stuff when my head is like this. Oh shno.

MORE CHOCOLATE. MORE.

It's strange- I'm not focusing a lot on love or my lack of it today. Even though it's Valentine's Day.

I'm actually focusing a lot on my health.
A while back, I had a post where I proclaimed my love for myself- I suppose I've lost that love, or it has at least deteriorated past the honeymoon stage. My sister did a photo shoot recently of dancers, and I decided to get in on it. But when I saw the pictures, I looked like a skeleton. My self esteem basically went into the floor because of it.
And on top of that, in Sociology and in AP Psychology, we've been doing a unit on eating disorders. Of course, while giving the profile of an anorexic, it sounded like they were telling the class my life story. And because I'm such a hypochondriac, it's really getting to my head. I know I'm not anorexic, and it's not that I'm in denial either. I just have issues with prioritizing. I forget that food is... actually really important. ^^;

I'm going to the doctor tomorrow, and it'll all be okay. I'll gain weight. I'll hopefully start looking decent. I will end up weighing over 100 pounds. But what really gets me is the fact that when I look in the mirror, I don't see how skinny I really am. All I see is that I'm not toned. Which bothers me. Because that proves how distorted my body image really is.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. DX
Sometimes I just can't stand being in my own head.

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty.

Today, I had a magical moment. But I'll start from the beginning.

I went to dinner with my mother and her friend, Lynn. We got some Mexican food and followed it up with fried ice cream, but unfortunately, my mood was ruined when Lynn started talking down to me and treating me like I was a 'typical stupid teenager.' But whatever! I wasn't going to let it bring me down.

We then went to see 'The Vow.' We got the last tickets (whoop!) and had to sit separately. In the theater lobby before hand, I saw tons of girls I know through school or youth symphony, and none of them said "hi!" or even waved at me. But whatever! I wasn't going to let it bring me down.

The movie made me really angry. I'm not going to give any spoilers, but even though it made my mother cry like a baby, it got my heart pounding to the point where I thought I might've punched the person next to me. Actually, I sat next to a group of girls from North High School, one of which knew me, but didn't acknowledge my existence or familiarity, though all of her friends (who I didn't know!) did. But whatever! I wasn't going to let it bring me down. I think you're getting the picture, yeah?

I have a bunch of heaped up negativity ready, and I'm ready to explode right now. Even my sister started yelling at me for no reason, calling me a stupid bitch, etc., etc.

But after the movie (and don't get me wrong, it could totally be just the film's romantic influence on my psyche) while I was walking around the lobby with my mother, Lynn gone, and us waiting for Jade to get out of 'the Woman in Black,' I made eye contact with a handsome guy I've noticed around school. And it was one of those magical moments. I honestly don't think it meant anything in his head, I wouldn't know anyway; but it made me feel so incredibly beautiful.

I guess that's what it's all about, yeah?

Maybe I Won't Die Alone?

I've been really annoyed with myself lately due to how much I either want or do complain about guys, and not having a relationship. In fact, I was really debating whether or not I wanted to write this, because the thought of how desperate I sound is so aggravating.
But you know what? I'm only desperate if I complain without doing anything about it. If I open myself up- if I let myself be vulnerable, there's a lot lower chance that I'm going to be a bitter, desperate little girl, and a lot higher chance that I'll be the mutually loved woman I want to be.

But then another problem comes into play. I'm really bad at flirting. Like, I'm good at laughing at jokes (even the lame ones; I think they're hysterical) but other than that, I have no sense of what is... flirtatious. Maybe I've just never met someone that I can openly flirt with, or maybe I focus too much on being friends first.

A lot of the time, though, I feel like I'd rather make someone happy by letting them be with other girls and do what they want, than by actually being with them to make them happy.
I should probably fix that.

Tee-El-Cee.

I believe that every girl on the planet has an innate need to baby something. I used to get super annoyed with myself whenever I baby talked my cat. Now, I'm like, "fuck it!" I speak a good octave higher each time I see my little Dover-over-o.

Anyway. It makes sense. Women are designed to be mothers, really. That's the only 'job' science and God really intended for us. We just want to eat, sleep, and reproduce. So... if you don't have a child, you have to take that need out on something or someone else. Yeah?

Not to brag or anything, but I'm going to be an awesome mother. I'm going to be so incredibly great at being a mother. Oh my God. You have no idea. Like. Really. I will push my babies in strollers all around the fucking park. I will spin the fucking merry-go-round on the playground until they think their heads are going to melt from the centripetal force exerted on their tiny frames. I will tease them and love them and cherish them. And. I will raise them to like broccoli. And cauliflower. And... um. pasta. A lot of pasta.

I need an outlet for TLC! I need to love someone. :o

Elephants.

I don't mean to be redundant, but there are reoccurring themes in my life that just keep coming up. Like, "Dear God, I am confident, I work hard, and I'm a romantic... so why don't I have a boyfriend? Um. Or at least a prom date?"

Well. I don't really know. But today, my mother and sister found a note thing my councilor told me to fill out saying who I like. Even though I really really ought to not like him. And avoiding him has been doing a pretty good job at stopping liking him. But now that they found that note? It kind of reinforced the feelings I've been trying to get rid of. Like in Inception- "Don't think of an elephant."

All I'm thinking about is the elephant, now. Shit damn.

Nothing like Hans Zimmer to make your life seem UBER melodramatic. XD

Social Darwinism Makes Me Feel Lucky.

Today I decided that I'm going to write a movie script. I have completed one in the past, and I keep thinking about a single scene that I wrote last year. It was really good. So hey. I'm going to finish it.
Any way, the plot is mostly character driven: After a girl's mother dies of cancer, she tries to commit suicide. Her father is a psychologist at a university hospital, where he is doing indepth research on...
And then I kind of don't know. What is he studying?

Well, I tried to get him to be like an Emile Durkheim, studying suicide. But I think that would be too obvious of a choice. Anyway, I was doing some research on Durkheim, and I thought about all that social darwinism shit. I realized- I probably shouldn't be here.

If medicine weren't available to me, I wouldn't be the strong person I am. I would be weak- and therefore, I would be 'gotten rid of.' Strangely enough, it's not a depressing thought to me. It makes me thankful. I was given a chance... I don't know. It's weird to think of all the people you know- and pick them out and be like, "They're eliminated... they're eliminated... they're gone... they're dead..."

Even though I find Social Darwinism to be a cold belief system, and I really despise, it, it got me thinking. That's all.

I'm so lucky.

I Have Confidence In Sunshine/Rain/Me.

Everybody needs a confidence boost once in a while. They do.

I remember just a few months ago, when three friends of mine and I had our first AP Bio Study group. And we ended up just talking a lot about... random shit. And Alyssa and I told the other two attendees, both single guys at the time, how ungodly attractive they both were. We both had boyfriends at the time (she still does), so it was completely innocent, and it was honest and it made them feel good about themselves. And what do you know? A few weeks later, the boy who hasn't had a girlfriend ever before now has a beautiful, funny, incredibly nice girlfriend. I'd like to think that Alyssa and I kinda helped with that. Just confidence wise.

And so, today, when Jade just had to go to the mall to get a new pair of pants, I convinced her to go to DEB and try on some prom dresses with me. All the dresses I tried on fit me perfectly- something I've never ever experienced in my life. Hell, it was hard to find anything that fit me up until last year. Even now it's hard to find stuff that fits a lot of the time. But these dresses? I felt like a princess (with messy hair and no make up).

Every girl deserves her princess days, and I really need mine. They better come soon. Prom... Senior Recital... Etc.?
Also, I finally wrote my scholarship essay.

And so I jammed with Jade to the Offspring.

An Asshole is an Asshole is an Asshole.

Lately, I've been having this inner argument with myself.

Do people change?

One part of me wants to say, "Yes, of course they do. And you need to accept it. Some of your friends are just not the same people any more." It gives me a bitter feeling in my stomach. Like acid reflux mixed with nervous butterflies.

Then the other part of me is like, "No, people don't change. Not in ways that matter. An addict is always an addict. A pushover will always be and has forever been a pushover. An asshole is an asshole is an asshole."

And in ways, both are true. Not everybody gets to be the static character in your autobiography. Then again, I definitely am not a static character. I am one of the most mutable people I know. But I've always had these embedded details that will never leave me. Maybe that's the thing. People don't 'change' and they don't 'not change.'

People have layers. Your outer layers are the most mutable, and the inner are the most constant.

Also, I still haven't written my scholarship applications. Shit.

That Lovin'

You know when you play Mario Bros. and you get to the half way checkpoint on your first time through? No problem whatsoever?
That's where I am right now with the college thing.

I just got back from Chicago, where earlier today I had my audition for Oberlin and my audition for Peabody. And I'm happy with how I did. I screwed up, yeah, but I played musically. And my Saint Saens? Boooootifulllllll! (:

It's those moments when I remember why I practice until my wrist is on fire.
Why I try to scrounge up all the money I have to get new strings, or a rehaired bow.
Why I spend my off hours in a practice room at school, and not doing... actual homework.
Why I'm actually still working in general.

Because to see the smile on the face of the toddler when her and her mother peeked into a practice room to see me warming up on Bach? That gives you the best feeling in the world. It makes your cheeks hurt, because you're so happy you can instill happiness (if not something more than just that) into someone's heart.

Well. I guess I know where I'm going with my scholarship essays now. ha.

Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh No.

Today, I had quite an issue of trying to decide whether or not I liked somebody. Turns out, seeing them and a picture of their girlfriend is a huge turn off. Ha.
Any way. I'm feeling quite overwhelmed at this point, seeing as I have to do all this scholarship stuff, and I'm financially screwed on top of it.
On the bright side, my sister is being tormented by a bitch yet again, (she really does attract trouble in some ways) so I think I'm going to let out some aggression by talking to the girl tomorrow. That may or may not be really dumb. It will either go smoothly, as I will approach her gently, or, if she happens to retaliate, not so smoothly. I may have to get out my mint-condition, hardly used girl claws, and make a mosaic of her face. Which will be difficult, seeing as I may be taller than the girl by a lot, but she definitely weighs more than I do.

All that silly girl shit put aside though, to relieve stress, I may just need to take a bubble bath, drink some chai tea and eat a sundae.


Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh No.

Patience is a Virtue.

Sometimes, I get this really intense urge to just go to UW Milwaukee.
Like, it's not an awful school by any means. I could probably do better, and there's a reason it's my backup school, but there's something about it that just kinda... makes wanna just do it.
Maybe I'm just so scared of rejection that I'm willing to fling myself at the first acceptance that comes my way. But. I mean. There are perks to the school.

I'm getting so stressed out about financial aid. It really is just a bitch. With the fafsa, and that css thing and then the scholarships that I still haven't completed any essays for- I wish it was all a lot easier. I wish I could just go audition, and then be like, "doop doop doop, okay, I'm not gonna pay anything," and they'd be like, "whatevs babeh." Ahh, the magical world in my head.

Either way, I think once I get to Madison, I'll be a super happy camper. And if I make it into Peabody with a really nice scholarship, I'll probably have to call into school, because I'll be so busy running and dancing around in circles. I just have to stick through all this waiting stuff. Be calm. Relax. Practice.

Patience isn't a virtue- it's a vulture gnawing slowly at my sanity.

**To the tune of "Short Skirt, Long Jacket"

Teehee. Oh my God. I shouldn't have put so much effort into this. I should be showering.
------------------------------

I want a guy who'll buy me diamonds
I want a guy who won't make fart noises in class.
I want a guy with really nice hair,
A guy who doesn't ever smell like sweat..

I want a guy who is quite observant
Who's smart, and funny
But isn't an asshole.
He plays a lot of hockey
He's got nice abs
He would mess with the bass,
But he'd probably be serious about, maybe... clarinet...

I want a guy who loves me and really digs Dvorak...

I want a guy who wears decent jeans
I want a guy who has a nice (but not overbearing) treasure trail
I want a guy who'll scrape snow off my car for me
Who never gets whiny just because he failed
He prefers wearing boxers, he loves me in a dress
And Lord only knows he's my philosophic match

He plays a lot of hockey
He's got nice abs
He would mess with the bass,
But he'd probably be serious about.. maybe.. cello...

I want a guy who loves me and really digs Beethoven...

I want a guy who has a good vocal range
But he doesn't sound like he swallowed a crow
At Orchestra rehearsal we'll meet accidentally
We'll start to talk when he asks about a crescendo...

He wants a nice car, but not one that's girly
And he knows that he'll probably never ever get it
He's double majoring in music and science
He's thinking about having a concentration in psychology

I want a guy who loves me and really digs Tchaikovsky...


-------------------------

Time Out.

A poem I wrote while listening to Mr. Brubeck.
-------

He reminds me of jazz,
Of drinking wine,
Of a good nap.
My dizzy daydream lover
Stares into me,
Killing my senses with a hot
Kiss on the neck.
He seizes all intuition.
He whisks away every thought of
present, past and future-
Sends it into a black hole
Where the stars I used to name sit abandoned.
He knows the curvature of my spine,
The soft spot on the back of my head-
He's a deity, and I'm Ginsberg.

We are black and white,
And our obligations are dead.
Toes curling into our feet we try to stand
But fall back into bliss.
Mocking the swans,
We dance in their moonlit swamp.
We crack our necks and howl
Like the dogs we were raised by
While that strange meadowlark,
playing his piano
Laughs at our foolishness.

And soon enough it is done,
And my lips are mine,
And his chest is his,
And the moon is God's,
And He is taking it away.
And I'm no longer Ginsberg,
And he's no longer a deity,
And his name is stuck in my head,
Abruptly shocking my today.

Sounds like a Decent Year.

My mother showed me this the other day.

Quite frankly, I decided to have a little fun with it, and chose the closest four books to me. **Note, I used the first whole sentence on the page.



Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte): "I wonder what sort of girl she is- whether good or naughty."

Yildiz Heisst Stern (Isolde Heyne): "Yildiz war froh, wieder allein zu sein." ("Yildiz was happy to be alone.")

Fathers and Sons (Ivan Turgenev): "'And nature is trivial?' Arkadii inquired, looking meditatively into the distance at the brightly colored fields beautifully and softly illuminated by the sun."

Biology Text Book (Campbell and Reece): "The reaction involving ammonia reaches equilibrium when ammonia decomposes as rapidly as it forms."

So... Though I may have one relationship, it'll be broken up rather quickly, but I'll find peace in that through the beauty in this world and my inquisitiveness for life. People are going to wonder if I'm asexual or not, because I'll be abnormally happy for a single person. I guess. XD
Sounds like a pretty decent year.

Cigarettes and Validation.

So, I know a good portion of strings players with tendonitis who use a wrist splint. And for me, a wrist splint is kind of like smoking a cigarette- you know it's a bad sign, but it looks damn cool.
And now... I'm...cool. I guess.
It makes me feel validated. Like, 'yeah, bitches, I practice 2-3 hours everyday.' (even though that's not super impressive to musicians, it makes me feel good that I'm finally at the point where I don't mind practicing for more than 45 minutes...ah, 10th grade.)

So, besides my masochistic ways, I'm doing pretty good. And I'm feelin' independent, I don't really have a crush on anyone, I'm doing well in school... etc. Let's just hope I rest my wrist enough to be able to play like a boss and get into Peabody and Oberlin. Then I'll be set.

Contentedness.

I feel like compared to my peers, I'm an extremely passionate person. I could be wrong, but there are things like life, love, etc. that just really get me. They just make my heart kinda do this fluttery dance thing, and I just wish I could share it with everybody. Like the feeling you get at the beginning of the third movement of the Tchaikovsky violin concerto. In some ways, I wish I could feel that excited and pumped all the time, but my energy would deplete a lot faster because of such.

Is this that 'I'm not letting myself be happy' crap again? Because... I could be that excited about life all the time. I know I have the potential for it. And it might let me sleep better at night. But... why would you want to be happy like that so often? Why isn't settling for contentedness good enough? Maybe things should just be left as a little unsettling in life... Maybe there should always be some discord, just to know that you're alive?

Step By Step, I Got A Whole New Walk.

When I was in elementary school, I was the girl who could come up with a game at the snap of your fingers. Literally. I would challenge people.
"Snap your fingers, and I'll have a game!" I would say. And I would. Although, I'd usually make it more detailed as I went along.

That's how I came up with games like 'boccer,' a mix of basketball and soccer, which was strangely similar to lacrosse; 'the Adventures of Maddie and Carly,' a game my sister and I used to play where I was Maddie, she was Carly, and we would typically be on an adventure in the jungle; and that one game (can't remember the name) where my best friend Mykayla and I would swing our hands, say "a bip, and a bop, and a 1, 2, 3!" jump, and randomly be wherever we wanted to be. For instance, my favorite places where 'the blood stream,' where we rode on red blood cells like innertubes, and Egypt.

I wish I could still have the time to do that kind of stuff. It's weird how you get older, and all that creativity just gets transferred into other parts of your life. All of my creativity nowadays is like, 'art, art, art, serious, serious, serious!'

So, lately, I've been trying to come up with projects for extra credit in Psychology. Although a lot of my ideas are dumb, it's nice to just be like, 'blah blah funny shit blah creative!' We'll see where it gets me. Right now, though, we have to design an experiment testing conditioned responses and all that Pavlovy stuff.

Let the fun begin.