Ouchie

I had this neck spasm thingy last night. It hurt like a bitch and I couldn't move my head without intense pain. This was 2:30 in the morning. The doctor lady at urgent care pretty much just told me to take advil, put ice on it, and stretch it.

Then my lovely stepmom came over cuz she's a rockin' massage therapist. She did some funky thing that popped some stuff around and now I feel a lot better. However, if it stiffens up again I might not be able to go to school tomorrow.

Which would suck, yah?

...I wanted to share.

Yeah, backing up my writing. Going through it as well. I quite like this little gem.In it's own way, of course. It was pretty much me just writing whatever popped into my head.


Jack Kerouac and I sat on the rim of the teacup. He looked over at me some sort of secret joke in his one good eye, and opened his mouth.
“Why do you always start these things with non-movement, darling? They stood. She sat. I lounged. Bla bla bla set the scene. Also, why are you suddenly imagining me with an eyepatch?” He said, half thoughtfully and half sarcastically, gripping the smooth edge with his wrinkled, solid hands. I scratched my nose.
“Oh, I don’t know, trying to think quickly, I suppose. Practice for my novel.” I scratched again. Itchy itchy. He patted me on the shoulder.
“Well, let me tell ya something, sweetheart. If you’re so hung up on this inspiration stuff for your novel, you shouldn’t sit here and think about it, you should go do something and write about it. That’s good literature. Not some whiny little pansy complaining about their lack of experience.” He swirled his shoeshined feet in the murky liquid as he said this, and I smiled a little.
“Oh, like you’re Mr. Experience. Yeah, sure, you did some crazy shit and wrote about it, but how much of what Sal Paradise and his Frisco New York beat did was true?” I looked at him accusingly, and he shrugged and smiled. “Besides, how am I going to do that kind of stuff? I can’t even drive yet. Ah, how horrible to be smart and bored and disillusioned before you can do anything about it.”
“Well now look at that, pansy whiner, prime example, right there.” He raised his voice, turning away slightly. It was obvious he didn’t like pansy whiners.
“But no!” I rushed to defend myself. “The pansies whine about their lack of experience because they are scared to experience things. I whine about my lack of experience because I can’t experience anything. Hey,” I stopped suddenly in my meandering rant explanation, another thought popping into my head. “Remember that movie? You know, the one where the dad in the family pretty much hates American society but he loves to invent stuff, so he takes the family deep into the jungle and eventually makes an organized community there, effectively creating what he was running away from, and then he goes kinda nuts and is always trying to settle in new places, settling into new ways of life?” Jack nodded. Neither of us could remember the title, of course. Good movie, though. But anyway. “We should totally do that! We could buy a little boat, fit it out for a trip or whatever, like, a sailboat? Yeah, a sailboat! Maybe with a motor or something in case there’s no wind. Or a paddle. Or a bunch of paddles. Or some oars. Yeah, so a boat. And then we’d sail around where there’s no big cities, and we’d catch fish and eat lots and lots of sushi. And we’d have tea at one in the afternoon every day like clockwork and steal the finest bone china from the sitting room of the Queen of England just for the pleasure. Well, you can have tea, I’ll have coffee. No, actually, we’re both red blooded Americans, and tea is unpatriotic. That’ll be a slap in the face to the queen, drinking coffee out of her finest china teacups. Shame for her, she seems like a pretty nice lady, tottering around the palace. Maybe we should steal it from the White House. Or Putin! Putin’s a scary man, I’m sure he has a nice set of china around, we’ll steal it. Or trade for it. I bet Putin’d go for that, yeah, definitely. Okay, so we’ve got the boat and we sail around and we eat sushi and drink some coffee during teatime to stick it to those silly brits, and we find some sort of island that’s terribly beautiful, like so beautiful it hurts to look at it every morning, which is why we’ll sleep in, either that or be masochists. We’ll need to find an island because I do have a bad seasickness problem, and while I’m sure I could handle it for a little while the constant puking would probably get old, and life on the sea can be pretty rough. And we’ll bring some sort of weak willed man with us who can impregnate me if I suddenly decide I need a child, because no offense Jack, but I’m afraid you might be dead and if you aren’t, I’m not sure you’d be up to it, I’m pretty sure that sort of thing has an expiration date if you know what I mean. So this island, we can totally pretend it’s like the island on Lost and it moves around and we can travel through time and stuff like that. And would you look at that this rant has pushed me over eight hundred words. This whole novel thing is going to be way harder than I thought. Well, I’ll keep going, might as well go for a thousand. So, we’re on the island with maybe a handful of weak willed individuals who we can lead and be benevolent rulers to them and all that. They’ll run errands for us and massage our feet suggestively and we’ll give them sage wisdom in return and keep them all from the brink of disaster. We’ll also breed exotic varieties of sheep on the island, by crossing a few that we brought with us on the boat to the large wild population on the island. And we’ll climb trees and film monkeys doing funny mating dances and take too many pictures of sunsets and we’ll write on rocks with permanent marker that’s absolutely permanent and we’ll give each other homemade tattoos and we’ll do all this because we want to make our mark on the world. We want to be remembered. We want our lives to have meant something, something that we choose. We’ll choose to be benevolent leaders of a terrifyingly beautiful island in the middle of an ocean who breed sheep, because we don’t want to be normal. We want to be incredibly abnormal.” I finished almost blue in the face, deflated.
“Well hon, you made one thousand words. That wasn’t so hard. 50,000 more to go in November.”

Lolwhut?

I can't wait for my America is okay I guess sometimes T-shirt to come. Yes, I ordered it. I love T-shirts. My mom just got me one as an end of the school year present. It is a pimped out design of a Beatles CD cover, Let it Be. EEEEEE!!!!

So... One day of school left! It always takes a while to really hit me. I am going to miss my computer, but I could probably do without its evil influences for a while. OHSHITOHSHIT I KEEP FORGETTING TO BACK UP MY WRITING STUFF! SHITSHITSHIT

Aaaaaanyway. I'm so excited because next weekend I'm going to my mom's friend's wedding. In Iowa. Hee hee. A lesbian wedding! It will be amazing.

Ever since Iowa has legalized gay marriage I've been snickering at Minnesota. I mean, Minnesotans are always the ones making snide jokes about how stupid and hillbilly Iowans are. Irony irony irony you sweet motherfucker. I'm hoping those legislator dudes can take a hint now.

EHAHAHAAAA!

Heehee

I went exploring in my very own backyard!

I found a caterpillar. I put it on my cat.

I am covered in flower petals and pine needles.

Feels like poetry.

I think I have a bizarre Mary Lucia fetish.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so Con the church man has to become a really awesome Minnesotan band so that we can be on The Current and I can meet her and give her a hug.

Ehhhhh

Arguing with my dad. I think he let me win. But, well, no. Not really. I don't think people argue with him very much.

I love greek food.

The funny thing is the veins would give it all away in so many heartbeats to the greedy sucking needle.

My mom brought me into urgent care today. I've had a cold and lots of fatigue for almost a month now, and the sore throat has been getting pretty bad, along with stomachaches at the beginning of the month.

I was pretty out of it the whole time, thinking random philosophical and poetic thoughts about hospitals and stuff.

So I don't have anemia or mono, which is nice. I might have some thyroid thingy but the doctor said that I probably didn't. Apparently I probably have some sort of stomach acid problem, which if I take the medicine and the symptoms go away will be proved.

I need to sleep. And do my homework tomorrow.

I don't feel well today.

Or all week practically. But never mind. On with the show.

I saw The Intelligent Homosexual's Guide to Capitalism and Socialism with a Key to the Scriptures. Last night. At the Guthrie. It's by Tony Kushner.

It was amazing and though provoking and fast paced and crazy and wild and INTELLIGENT.

It made me happy. It made me sad. It made me a lot of things.

Also, sort of unrelated to the play, I think I saw my spanish teacher there, and Ben Uke as well.

Hm.

Know what's cool?

Music.

And...

Facebook gets more boring and lame every time I visit it.

Dr. McNinja is possibly the most hilarious webcomic ever. Ninjas and docs FTW.

I am extremely addicted to college humor.

My fondest memory of freshman year? A cranky Justin Lee, on a morning of all school chapel, irritably responding to unwanted attention from the row behind him by saying "Fuck Jesus."

Fuck Jesus indeed.

I am tired tired tired in my bones.

Hour bike ride, hour's rest, and then hour and a half of fencing. With another ten minutes of conditioning added just to torture us. Pushurpies are the work of the devil.

Enough whining about crotch sweat and antsy bikers (Dude, just give up, I'm going the exact same speed as you and there's no room, oh look, there's another bike coming, looks like you gotta go back, boo hoo or Why are they going so slow? I'd pass them, but they're about as far left as they can go, which is totally impolite to other bikers, and why do they keep looking back? It's not like I'm tailgating them. I know how to bike, It's not like I'm going to run into them. Maybe if they'd let me pass they wouldn't have to worry so much.)

Oops. Hehe.

I just want to stretch out in bed and analyze a Tamora Pierce book. They used to be my favorites. I guess they're still good, but eh... slightly annoying occasionally.

Blablabla.

headacheheadacheheadache

So there was a bishop at school today. She was pretty okay I guess.

I want THIS shirt. So... If you love me truly, you will give it to me, right?

You won't. I hate you. You never let me have any fun.

I'm sorry. Please don't be mad. Don't leave me.

DON'T LEAVE MEEEEEEE.

It's all right. I've found someone else. Someone who bought me the shirt. Too late. You lose.

Okay, if you're desperate to buy me a shirt, I can think of a few others...

Well,

No more Lost until 2010.










If there is any proof that there is a God and I am being punished for my nonbelief, this is probably it.

Did you know?

If you have all of your friends' blogs open at once and let all the music play, you see rainbows and eat their souls.

Wheeeeee!!!!!!

I saw the Star Trek movie. It was awesome. I might make a video about it once I get more energy. I've had to walk around all day on a bowl of Ramen because the even the thought of eating something makes me nauseous. Although I'm feeling a twinge of hunger right now, so that's good.

Anyway, if I don't regain the energy to make a video I'll post all my thoughts on it here.

Live long and prosper.

Ugh. Sick.

As long as I stay still I don't feel like I'm about to puke.

Watching old Star Trek episodes because I have no motivation to study.

Shut up. They're entertaining. Although ridiculously sexist. The one girl on the ship does nothing but prance around in revealing costumes.

GJSIHDUEGDIUGUISJOYRFI&TEJXBU!!!!!!!!!!

AGHAGHAGHAGHAGHAGHFUCKINGFUCKINGAGHAGHAGHAGHAGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, yeah, Laramie Project. Starting was good. Ending was good. Middle was garbled, mixed up nonsense. I am still a bit aggravated. WE SKIPPED SEVEN SCENES ENTIRELY!!!!!!! SEVEN!!!!!!

All right, let me see if I can explain this a bit more rationally. Since the play is basically just one big scene, with no one going on or off and no changes of scenery, it is divided into a ton of little "moments". There is almost no way to keep track of all of these moments. People circulate constantly, so you pretty much have to rely on cues. If you miss a cue, or someone fucks up your cue, you're basically screwed. We had a few small mistakes at first that I won't agonize over, but then somebody really fucked up. Just after the scene with the homecoming parade, there's a scene, and then I have a scene, and there's a scene with the reverend and Amanda Gronich, and then they actually REPORT that Matthew dies, and ALL THIS SHIT! I guess there are a lot of people to blame. The person that didn't come in with their scene. Whoever jumped in suddenly with some scene much later. I guess we're all to blame, really, for not realizing something was wrong. Once we realized it, there was nothing we could do. We couldn't go back. No one knew what to do, so we just kept going with whatever.

I guess I'm not as mad as much as I'm disappointed. I was looking forward to performing my scene, and looking forward to seeing the ones that were coming up. There was some big things that we missed. I feel bad for people like Ahsha and Elizabeth, who had a good and informative scene that got missed, although that was a different screwup. I feel bad for Natalie and Ben, too, who had a big scene. I especially feel bad for Max, he had a lot of his biggest part in the play skipped.

We've been working on this the whole quarter, and we had one chance to get it right. And I guess we did, I mean, the parts that we got right were great, everyone did really well, I think. But we had one chance to get it right, and we fucked it up.

We did ok. I'm sure the audience got a little confused but didn't really notice much. But for me, and all of us, I guess, as actors, even if the audience didn't know how badly we fucked up, WE did.

ARGH angry whiny blog post makes me feel slightly better. How did you like it Gaia?

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!

Getting more and nervous about the performance! Almost an hour until we begin! MEEEEEP!

I'm not THAT nervous, but the worst situations are running through my head. Like, I'm late, or I have to go to the bathroom, or some bad shit happens. I know it won't, but there'll probably be at least one screwup. We're just kids, and some of us know our lines better than others. It's funny how many things can go wrong with the setup when it's just rows of chairs and a table.

But whatever. It's cool.

Finals, OH SHI-

t!


Um yeah. Finals next week. I'm not too worried, but yeah I am a little bit. I definitely slacked off more this semester than I did last one. So... Spanish will be a breeze, the Acting final is the Laramie Project performance, which I'm sure I'll do well on unless I suddenly choke, Physics... I don't even want to think about Physics right now, I'll just have to reread each of the readings seven times, English doesn't seem so bad, I've got the vocab down, I'll have to study those pesky phrases and then come up with some sort of essay, Math'll be lovely, Iserman's such a sweetheart. He basically gave us a packet with practice tests to use if we wanted and is giving us the whole week to do whatever we want, History I usually do well on, but I just saw the review sheet and... wow. We learned a lot of shit in history. Stupid Rome.

In a late bout of organization I've made a sticky schedule and to-do list. Because I spend more time on the computer than with my agenda.

But do you care? You do not.

I wish I couldn't.

Been having fun on the internet lately...

SO... I found this amazingly cool site called The Selby, where they photograph really cool and interesting people in their "creative spaces". It's SO COOL! These artists and designers and chefs and stylists and writers with all sorts of beautiful houses and studios.

www.theselby.com

THEN I has chilling on the youtubes when I found this adorable video with Kate Micucci from Garfunkel and Oates. Grace totally rocks for introducing them to us. ANYWAY, it was called Dear Deer and it had a cute little toddler in a deer costume and this little kid as a hunter and it was ADORABLE! So then I went to Kate's site that was in the description and oohed and aahed over her acting bits in scrubs and some other shows. But then I was like "What about Riki?" so I went and found Riki Lindhome's site and SHE's been in a bunch of shows and movies and stuff too! Both of their sites are super cool, and I particularly enjoyed a long clip of a webseries Riki's appeared in, basically about a bunch of butch hardcore lesbians living in LA's criminal underworld.


WOO! I feel very tired. I also love National Geographic. And 60 minutes. They were reporting on this rehabilitation center is Saudi Arabia for "terrorists" released from Guantanamo, and they were showing these intimidating Saudi Arabian guys drawing pictures with crayons. It was so cute.