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.