INDIEchouette


I’M GOING TO PRETEND I WAS NEVER ON TEMPORARY HIATUS

Here is a story for you.  I thought I had four As and one B this semester at college.  When I checked my grades online, I found that I had four As and one C.  The C was in my one-credit Intro to University class, where we did jack shit and my teacher was a certified phony.  I’d nabbed As in Psyc, English, Math, and Gov.  This was not an easy feat.  And that one-credit piece of shit class dragged down my GPA.  Needless to say, I was at least a little frustrated, and supposing my cousin, Liz, chances upon this entry, she will probably correct me and tell me that I cried and she wanted to punch me in the face.  College is something you have to pay for, so my mentality was to achieve all As (unlike my high school mentality, which was “Fuck It”).

However, I still made Dean’s List.  This is extremely satisfying.

My message to you is:  If you go to VCU, do not take Univ 101 no matter how your advisor urges that you do so.  It’s just not worth the time.

I will give you two more things today.

The first is a book recommendation.  If you’re like me, then you have multitudes of books lying around your room and your suitcase that you cannot wait to read, yet there are still so many more that you have not yet acquired of which you yearn to get ahold.  And you’re ever so open to recommendations, as you love to read and you love books, but at the same time, you barely have room for another book in your life right now.  I am like this now, and I was also like this when I purchased the book that I am currently reading, but I urge you to do whatever you can to make room for this book.  And I’ll tell you what this book is.

But first, I have to admit that I can’t believe I haven’t read it yet.  I feel so overwhelmed now because I must have about a million undiscovered gems to read, especially considering the grandeur that is this novel.

everything-is-illuminated

The book is called Everything Is Illuminated and it was written by Jonathan Safran Foer.  And I’ll have to leave it at that, because it’s impossible to describe in all its intricacies.  I can tell you that if you doubt me at all, then just read the first “chapter” piece, narrated by Alex in hilariously fucked-up English.  If you’re a language person like I am, then you’ll appreciate these segments.  And if you still doubt me, then turn to the next “chapter” piece, narrated by Jonathan.  If you’re a detail-oriented person like I am, then you’ll appreciate these segments.  And if you still doubt me, well, you might as well read the entire novel.  It’s thick but the pages fly by.  And it’s probably worth it.

I might as well add that yes, a movie version does exist, and it may or may not be loyal to the book and it may or may not be fulfilling, but I only recommend the book.  It is worthwhile to read the book.  Elijah Wood is in the movie, but I don’t know whether or not it is worthwhile to watch.  Just read the book already.

Also, okay, since I had to find a photo of the book cover, I also ran into shots from the movie and it is tempting to watch it now.  But please, be a good person and read the book.

The last well…maybe the last thing I wanted to tell you is that of course I enjoy Melpo Mene, and that I have another Melpo Mene track to share with you.  Not unlike the band’s other tracks, this one is a sweet, soft lullaby-like crooner tune but it strikes me probably because it is both incredibly joyous and terribly melancholy at the same time.  It is not unlike a sunny afternoon on a day where you’ve slept too much, because while it’s dandy that everything is gorgeous and that you are well-rested, the sunlight will go away soon and the day will end and then you’ll have nothing to do.

I should get away | Melpo Mene
[zshare] [mediafire]
[website] [myspace]

And I was just thinking that maybe this should be the end of my post, but I have decided to take it upon myself to introduce to you a phenomenon.  If you have already seen this phenomenon, then I am proud of you.  But I can only go a few days or weeks without seeing this video before having to refresh my memory.

It’s not that I think this girl is stupid or that I want to hate on her.  I just find her videos humorous in content.  This is probably the most popular one, but her others are gems as well.  She can be good-natured and excited, which in turn brings a smile to my face maybe because her good moods are fairly contagious, or maybe because she’s just so unbearably silly.  It kind of reminds me of an exaggerated version of me reacting to anything to do with Rilo Kiley.  I’m not praising her views on Twilight, though.  I find it fairly silly to defend something like a popular (and allegedly poorly-written) piece of literature so relentlessly and without restraint.  This sort of video by a self-proclaimed “twituber” makes me want to test Twilight for myself so I can be a better judge, since my taste in literature is relatively acute.  Then again, most girls who read Twilight, their taste is acute too.  They mostly refuse to branch out from the Young Adult section, which means they’ll just imbibe novels like A-List, The Clique, and other such teen romance/girl-fiction shit.

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BIRTHDAY EVE

It doesn’t feel like tomorrow (Thursday) is my birthday.  I’m really reluctant to let go of being seventeen.  I feel like I’ve built up so much to be this age, kind of like when I was twelve and fourteen.  Those were ages which, for one reason or another, I aspired to be.  I figured I would savour them and in truth, I did.  I went through a lot of major changes at those ages.  Now, though, I don’t know what age I aspire to be.  Seventeen was kind of it for me.  I love being a teenager, save for all the misconceptions.  Fortunately, I still have two years left, even if I’ll legally be an adult.

I guess part of this whole it-doesn’t-feel-like-tomorrow-is-my-birthday business is that I’m away from most of my family, so it’s not like we can really celebrate.  And I need to make my own cake if I want one.  I’ll probably forego that because…

Okay, first, my sleeping habits are all fucked up.  I’m always tired on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and I take long naps in the afternoon.  Naps are very French, so I’m okay with that.

My eating habits are pretty fucked, too.  I don’t really want to go into that because it will scare those of you considering veganism or even vegetarianism.  NO, it is not hard to be vegan or vegetarian.  YES, VCU does offer a plethora of vegetarian options, as well as a few for vegans (which is really nice, considering that some restaurants aren’t even that considerate).  The problem with my eating habits has more to do with time management and being busy and slightly lazy.  If I have lost weight over the past two weeks, it is only because I do not feel like boarding the bus to go over to Shafer Dining Court or walking there.  I do eat in my room, though.  I’ve had fruits and nachos and occasional granola bars and cereal.  Also, I guess I do get a lot of exercise, especially on days when I am motivated enough to make the 1.5-mile “trek” between the MCV campus (where I live) and the Monroe Park campus (where all of my classes are and everything happens).  Okay, so in just two weeks, I have gone from being a health-conscious “leafy green” vegetarian to being a lazy-ass junkfood transitioning vegan.  That definitely needs to change as soon as I’m more settled.  Fortunately, I’ve been researching good grocery stores in the area.

Muzak, though!  I haven’t written about music in so long.

Okay, the first tune, I have been spinning (lolzers, more like “telling my iPod to repeat”) constantly for the past few days.  It’s not only the catchiness and the depth of the lyrics, but it’s that little background noise.  Some MGMT, I didn’t like at first because it’s pretentious and it sometimes reminds me of of Montreal (nothing wrong with a little of Montreal, but I can only handle so much), but you have to love “Kids.”  It just feels right.

Kids | MGMT
[zshare] [mediafire]
[buy] [direct link]
MGMT’s Site
MGMT’s MySpace

So now I’m giving MGMT a second chance, because I always used to get pissed reading that people thought Animal Collective was “artsy for art’s sake.”  Come on, now!  What’s wrong with being artsy for art’s sake?!

The next track I must present to you is one of the most desperately catchy songs I’ve ever heard, again.  Except I’d venture to say that Van She is far more pop-friendly than MGMT is, and I predict that you’ll hear more from them in the mainstream soon.

Virgin Suicide | Van She
[zshare] [mediafire]
[buy] [direct link]
Van She’s Site
Van She’s MySpace

In the meantime between now and when I’m legal/now and my next post probably, I’ve got to write an Argumentative Diagnostic Essay.  Fun stuff.  Um, Explosions in the Sky soon, as well as maybe some French sheittt for all those fellow francophiles (I know, there are so many…).



NIGHT TERRORS
4 August, 2008, 1234 pm
Filed under: My Experience with Existence, School | Tags:

I had a nightmare about college last night.  It was all about being unprepared.  Up until this point, I’ve felt okay about going to college.  Most other kids don’t really know anyone else, and my roommate is in the same boat as I am, not knowing me at all.

In my nightmare, I was basically at Welcome Week, but I had classes on move-in day and I didn’t even have a laptop yet.  So I remember being bogged down with work because certain five-page research papers and other summer assignments were due on the second day of school.  I was wiggin’ out.  I also didn’t really know my way around campus at all, which was extremely unnerving.  I had to guess about everything and nobody was helpful.

Today, I’m going to make a list of things I want to accomplish here in Lewisburg before I go off to college.  And then I will accomplish them.  Yesterday, I already accomplished one of the things on my list.  Later today, I might post a mix.  Depends.



CINCO DE MAYO MONDAY MELEE
5 May, 2008, 1032 pm
Filed under: Barrels of Fun, My Experience with Existence, School | Tags:

Brought to you by the ever-lovely Fracas.

Also, I must mention…happy birthday, Emily Bohlen!  I love you, wherever you are right now.  Nevada, I guess?  I miss you quite a bit.

1. The Magnificent: Name someone you absolutely adore, and tell us why.
Ben Gibbard’s voice makes me swoon.  Phelan doesn’t get it, I guess, but dayumn.

2. The Muddy: Tell us something about life you just don’t “get”.
How can you hold a grudge?  It’s the most selfish, pointless thing I’ve ever heard of.  Maybe someone’s wronged you.  Okay, now get over it and forgive.  Holy shit.  I also don’t get how people can pick fights and be bitchy or persnickety all the time.  When I so much as accidentally bitch at someone, I’m on my toes for the next week.  And even if I purposely bitch at someone who totally deserved it, I need to apologize because I end up feeling dreadful.

3. The Magnetic: Name something or someone good (or bad) you’re drawn to and you just can’t help it. Tell us if you want to change this or not.
I am drawn to talented people who would never so much as give the the time of day because I blend in.  Haha.  I don’t want to change my appreciation for talent; this is not a bad thing.  I am not sure if I would like to change my ability to blend in, because that leads people to underestimate me.  I enjoy being told that people underestimate me.  It means I turned out better than they thought I would, if only marginally.

4. The Mainstay: Who or what is something you just can’t live without? Why?
I could be a smart-ass.  Will I?  Nah.  I was going to say that I couldn’t live without air, but instead I shall say that I can’t live without the feeling that springtime gives me.  Springtime means running.  Running leads to other sorts of exercise.  Exercise leads to better eating, which leads to me being an exceptionally happy person.

5. The Masquerade: Tell us something about yourself we wouldn’t already know.
I adore the feeling of pulled or strained muscles.  That is my motivation for exercise and other sorts of physical activity.  During one gym class sophomore year, we did lunges across the gym for the better part of the period.  The next day, I had quite a hard time walking up stairs, sitting down, standing up, and moving around.  While everyone else bitched and moaned about it, I couldn’t complain.  In fact, I may have bragged.

6. The Mettle: Tell us about a time you showed courage in yourself, or tell us what you wish you had the courage to do.
I hope I do not mess up at the concert on Friday.



“RABBIT RABBIT” FOR MAY

Going to the art show made me realize that I should have submitted more art.  Also, my friends are artistic wonders.  I especially enjoyed flipping through Paige’s sketchbooks.  I’ve been thinking about starting a sketchbook for quite some time; I’ve now decided that I must.  It is imperative.  I also want to take art classes galore in college, even though fuck, my major has nothing to do with art.  It’s really a release for all of the visual creativity I’ve got built up.  I write every day, but it’s rare that I get the opportunity to visually represent what’s on my mind.  And in elementary school, I was an art buff.  Some part of me thinks that perhaps I shouldn’t have traded art for band in middle school.  I’m in love with music and at least I’m glad that I learned to play mallets.  CONSOLATION for choosing oboe.

Nanyway.  Over the past few days, I’ve been regularly hitting up the Last.fm group for the Rilo Kiley concert on June 8th.  People (twenty-somethings, mainly) are afraid of people my age turning it into a fucking sing-along.  How RIDONKULOUS do you think we are?  And why wouldn’t you want to sing along?  I mean, look.  My freeenz and I live by the wisdom of Jenny Lewis.  We want to marry Blake Sennett (or something).  We realize that Jason Boesel is the rational voice of reason, and I guess Pierre de Reeder makes us dance or something.  I don’t know.  I guess I understand why you wouldn’t want a sing-along, but call me a “teeny bopper,” and I’m peissssed.  Just because I’m seventeen and a female.  Seeeriously?  Come on, now.  Reserve that term for someone who listens to one fuckin’ FOB song and goes to the concert.  All those pretty thirteen-year-old jelly-bracelet-wearin’ chicks at a Dashboard concert.  But please, never call a hardxcore Rilo Kiley follower a “teeny bopper.”  Please.  You will get beat down.

That being said, I have lately realized that I have two qualities that are automatic negatives.  One:  I am seventeen years old.  Thus, I’m not quite an adult and still insanely naive.  Two:  I am a girl.  This is like a double whammy, because it disallows many people from taking me seriously.  For example, people on Last.fm who think this is my first fucking concert or something.  The kind who call me a “teeny bopper” resentfully.  You don’t knoooow me!  And you also don’t know how committed I am to Rilo Kiley.  Committed, seriously.  Favourite band.

But when I’m writing, I have none of this in mind.  I don’t constantly think, “Oh, I’m seventeen and a girl.”  I just think about my passion for music, my passion for art, my passion for writing.  My passion for other people and details.  I also never have vegetarianism on my mind unless I’m at the grocery store.  And even then, it’s like, “Oh.  Today, we’re going to try to avoid cheese.”  Yeah.  And for the record, I would probably never buy or create a shirt declaring my vegetarianism.  Delia*s disappointed me in selling these.  It’s honestly nothing to brag about–kind of like wearing a shirt that says, “I dye my hair” or “I shave my legs.”  If you wear a shirt declaring it, people will think you’re pretentious.  High-and-mighty.  Holier-than-thou.  While I did constantly think about it two years ago, it’s now just part of life.  I don’t make it a point to tell everyone or rub it in everyone’s faces.  My point is that these shirts are for sellouts, mainly.  People who do it for the credit, or as a conversation starter.  Well, fuck that way of life.

Also, fuck PETA.

Hm, what else?  Oh.  The main downer point of my day.  I typed up my senior project paper, right?  All fancy and long.  Nice-looking.  Of course, I have had to guess and check on most of my project, because every time I asked them for clarification, they were extremely vague and unhelpful.  Well, I brought it down to Guidance in a spare moment.  And the woman.  At the desk.  Tells me.  That I did my paper wrong.  That it was supposed to be a five-paragraph essay.  With a cover sheet.  Telling about what I learned.

I almost screamed in frustration.

I’ve been making shit up as I go along ALL YEAR because Guidance has been the biggest lump of shit as far as help goes, and after I’ve done all of my hard work and put in many hours of organization and creativity, they have the BALLS to tell me that I did it wrong.  The fucking balls.

On my way out of Guidance, I felt tears welling up in my eyes.  They were not tears of, “I have to rewrite my paper.”  They were not tears of, “Poor me.”  Not the usual tears of sadness.  They were tears of frustration.  I was actually angry.  There was steam coming out of my ears.  I was soooo pissed.  Because Guidance can sit on their asses all day long and turn in my college applications over a month after I gave it to them after promising me “ASAP.”  They can give me the fucking PSSAs senior year.  They can force me to do a graduation project in less than half the time everyone else did it–and then threaten me with In-School Suspension (ISS) if I don’t turn it in on the same day as the senior slacker delinquents do (who have had about three years to complete their projects–over three times the amount of time I had).  But they can’t do their fucking job right.

So I put my head in my hands and pretended to sleep when in reality, I was stressed.  I am normally an expert at repressing tears, but this time, they leaked into my hands, I guess because of the pressure or some sheeeittt like that.  I just sat there and thought, “Oh, shit, how am I going to wipe my eyes off without making it look like I was just crying.”  But people knew because my face was all red, and I was acting like a pissmonkey, and I had to keep wiping my eyes.  If I had had someone to talk to, I think I would have been fine, but again…all of my friends were at the art show, and here I was stuck at school.  I never, ever, ever cry at school.  The last time I cried at school was probably sophomore year when the janitor pissed on me.  Well, he didn’t literally piss on me, but he yelled at me for something I didn’t even do, and made me clean it up, and called an administrator to supervise me, and it was humiliating.  Oh, and when my mother called the school about it, the Assistant Principal told me to get new friends.  It was actually laughable.  I laugh about it now because it was so ridiculous.  Fuck Guidance, seriously.

Also, I haven’t been so justifiably pissed in quite a long time.  I get frustrated with our school system, but I have not been this pissed at anyone for a good year, maybe.  And I haven’t been this justifiably pissed since the janitor thing.  Or when we got kicked out of the mall for wearing black.

Of course, I was pissed off for the rest of the day.  Rewriting the paper is no big deal.  I’m just frustrated with Guidance.

When I got home, of course it was a fucking Cryfest, boo-hoo, Guidance, blah blah, nyeeehhhh.  I was pissing at everyone.  And then in the middle of telling my mom this, she goes, “Look, you really need to wear coverup every day.”  And she pointed to my acne by my mouth.  So fucking superficial, I can’t even stand it.  Yes, I know that I have acne, mom.  I wash my face three thousand times a day.  You stressing me out is not going to cure anything.  You telling me that I shouldn’t have acne is not going to magically cure it.  And fuck, if I touch my face, I am not going to sprout a fucking pimple right there on the spot.  And for the record, my face is fucking dry.  Yeah, fuck astringent.

I went for a run, then.  And after that, we went to the grocery store.  And then I decided to work out for an hour.  I made my abs hurt.  I worked my arms hard.  I wanted to run again and do a million more reps, but there’s really only so much a person can do.  Exercise makes me happy.  It makes me feel thin and healthy.  I like that feeling.

Granted, I took some routines from Seventeen.  I used to think that Seventeen was so great.  It is, if we’re talking about body image.  But it does two things I don’t like.  One, it ignores the environmental situation.  In one issue, they specifically recommend aerosol hairspray for a style.  In another, they recommend packing a bottled water in your bagged lunch.  I’m sure there are other examples in every issue.  I just didn’t look.  Two, it stereotypes guys.  It tells you signs that he’s into you.  It tells you what subtleties he won’t pick up on.  It tells you why he likes you.  And really, this makes girls generic, too.  I picture the same girl for every write-in.  She is thin, well-liked, and beautiful.  Clean and naive.  And really, it makes me sad that anyone can think that they fit into a certain category.  You’re so different from anyone else, in a million ways.  The way you are, how you were raised, where you grew up, who your parents and siblings are, your aspirations, your tastes.  What you look like.  Just embrace it already.  Stop trying to look like Brittany Snow.  You’re beautiful on your own.  Or handsome–you’re stunning on your own.  Also, I find that Channing Tatum is an oaf.  Where the hell is the appeal everyone talks about?

Men.  Do you really think that every girl judges a man by his body?  Do you seriously think that every girl wants someone with a six-pack and bulging biceps?  Here’s a testament to the opposite.  I pay no attention to physical “treats” like that on a male.  I really don’t.  Partially because I would have no idea what to do with it.  Partially because a body like that would make me feel extremely self-conscious about my own body.  Also, I do not think that a toned, built man would go for me when I look like this.  But the main thing I look for in someone is something insightful and different.  I’ve found that more often than not, a guy who builds up his body is too busy conforming to what he thinks all girls want to have time to be insightful for me.

Well.  Huh.  Here’s my favourite track to work out to.  Brittany showed me the glory that is Santogold, and I fell in love.  Ali even said that on “L.E.S. Artistes,” she sounds like she is the baby of Tegan and Sara and M.I.A.  Funny, Santogold and M.I.A. are biffs.

Creator | Santogold
[zshare] [mediafire]
[buy] [mp3 direct link]
Santogold’s Website
Santogold’s MySpace

Might I add that Santi White is exceptionally beautiful?!



MY FRECKLES ARE SHOWING
30 April, 2008, 1137 am
Filed under: My Experience with Existence, School | Tags:

I always love freckles, on absolutely anyone.

I am in English class on a Macbook. Nothing interesting has happened today, not yet, but I think that I should go downtown today to distribute my project. After all, it is due tomorrow.

Here is a list of things I must do, in no particular order. I enjoy making lists. It calms me down.

Before Prom..
1. Buy Post Prom tickets
2. Buy The Things They Carried
3. Start my lit crit on above book
4. Go running today
5. Distribute my project
6. Order cap and gown (way, waaaay late)
7. Try hard not to shave or touch eyebrows
8. Wash face obsessively
9. Get shoes for Prom
10. Get jacket or SOMETHING for Prom
11. Try to figure out what to do with hair for Prom

Saturday…
1. Go running in the morning
2. Shave
3. Wash feet well
4. Do something with nails
5. Do hair
6. Pick up flowers
7. Charge camera batteries and such

Ahh. That list didn’t cover everything. I’m still going to be stressed.



YOU SHOULD HAVE COME TO THE ARTS FESTIVAL

I have finally completed my senior project.  And I’m so proud.  So, so proud.  Now this week, I have to distribute it around.  Since our printer is a piece of shit, I wasted lots of paper trying to print the cover, which takes up a looot of ink.  So I used up the better part of a cartridge yesterday.

If you live near me and you want a copy, I’d advise visiting some places downtown next week–Cherry Alley, maybe Zelda’s, perhaps Page After Page.  That’s where I plan to put them.  They’re completely free, by the by.

If you don’t live near me and you want a copy, I’ll be putting them in a PDF file online sometime soon, so you can save paper by reading it online, print a copy for yourself, print copies for your friends, et cetera.  Distribute.  I don’t care, as long as you don’t plagiarize.  I would be very, very angry if you plagiarized.

By the by, I have named it “From My Window To Yours.”  I bet you can guess where it’s from.

The best part is that I plan on continuing this.  Creating more volumes.  Making it better.

Anyway.  Yesterday was also the Arts Festival.  Sara said that she was upset about missing it this year.  This got me excited about going, because it must be good if Sara says it is.

Understatement.

It was the best day of my life.

So for starters, Market Street was blocked off so that tents could be set up in the street.  I got there at one, which was my volunteer time, but I regret not getting there earlier.  It took me ten minutes to find the Art for Africa booth, but they didn’t need me to volunteer, anyway.

This allowed me to walk around.  I found Jess at the Campus and I found Kate coming out of Cherry Alley.  I found Phelan and Coleton later.

I felt bad for Phelan and Coleton because I had promised the day to Phelan first.  Or at least, I had offered to see him.  I guess that’s not offering the day to him, but he lives in Palmyra and I rarely see him.  And after that, I had offered the day to Katie, but I only ran into her a few times, which I feel awful about.  I also made sort-of plans with Ali, but they did not happen.  I spent most of the time with Kate and Jess, which often excluded Phelan and Coleton.  But we had a good time.

I met people I normally lurk; thus, I do not have to lurk anymore.  For example, Angela, whose MySpace I constantly encounter.  I noted that while she is pretty in her photographs, the images don’t do her justice.  By that, I mean that she is gorgeous in person, far more so than any photograph could portray.  And actually, somehow, she reminded me a lot of Erika.  It might have been her fairly long, painted nails or her style, but I think it was mainly her thin hands, wrapped securely around a phone, and her small feet, covered in flats.  Weird things to notice.  Truth be told, Erika’s facial expressions cannot be matched.  But I did find the girls similar.  Thus, I found a strange comfort and familiarity in Angela that probably made me seem very forward.

My favourite part of the day was not the pierogies.  It was not socializing.  It was not making eyes at my favourite Cherry Alley employee (more like looking at, haha).  It was the weather.  Fucking gorgeous!  Shorts-outside material.  No jacket.  Sunny, hot, and amazing.  No cloud cover.  It was the kind of day that just made me happy.  Thus, all that additional art made me overjoyed.  It was too good.  And I wasn’t wasting it, either.  I felt like hugging everyone.  I felt like I was at the top of my game.  And for the few hours that I was there, I felt like hugging absolutely everyone.

Afterwards, I went running with my iPod and my handy dandy Running Mix.  And I felt glorious.

The rest of the night was wasted on printing my senior project, but at 1 am, I got a text from Brent to get online.  I was half-asleep, so I got on and we had a good conversation.  After that, I had a hard time going to sleep again.

And then this morning, I went running farther than I went yesterday.  I also lifted weights.  So I feel awesome.

But this is all in preparation for the tedious journey of searching for a prom dress.

Take It Easy (Love Nothing) | Bright Eyes
[zshare] [mediafire]
[buy] [mp3 direct link]
Bright Eyes’ Website
Bright Eyes’ MySpace
Saddle Creek Website

On the plus side (still), I am able to listen to Bright Eyes avidly again.  “Lua” is climbing its way back into my heart.