Sometimes, I am frustratingly blind.  And it hurts.

Happy birthday, Jenny Lewis!  And happy Jenny Lewis’ birthday!  I celebrate that shit like it’s a religious holiday!


I give you some old favourites.

My Slumbering Heart | Rilo Kiley
[mediafire] [buy]

With Arms Outstretched | Rilo Kiley
[mediafire] [buy]

Spectacular Views | Rilo Kiley
[mediafire] [buy]

It’s A Hit | Rilo Kiley
[mediafire] [buy]

More Adventurous | Rilo Kiley
[mediafire] [buy]

Pictures of Success | Rilo Kiley
[mediafire] [buy]

Always | Rilo Kiley
[mediafire] [buy]

We Will Become Silhouettes | The Postal Service
[mediafire] [buy]

Oh man, Rilo Kiley marathon, fuck yes.  PS, Mediafire links coming soon.  Firefox and Mediafire just keep wigging out every time I try to find files, just for now.  Within the week, I promise, ilu.

I would like to shout out to my grrrl, Erika, for also celebrating Jenny Lewis’ birthday.

I got my hair cut today at Holiday Hair at the mall.  The haircut isn’t that bad, except that the “choppy layers” I was going for totally aren’t there, so needless to say, I’m kind of extremely pissed.  I even told the girl, “I WANT VOLUME.”  Like, what does that mean to you?  It means that it’s absolutely my priority and that I will sacrifice a rational haircut for some lift!  Swear to God, next time I want my hair cut, I am not going to [ask my mom to] pay $20 for it.  Oh, nuh-uh.  Don’t hate on me.  My mom’s the one who urged that I needed a haircut so badly, so she offered to pay up.

Instead of complaining, I’m going to go lurk all over /b/.  THAR R SRSLY GRLZ ON B?  RLY?  CUMDUMPSTERS EXIST?  NOWAI!  I rarely admit that I am a she.  You’ve been warned.  Be back later, bye.

3 January, 2008, 1240 am
Filed under: Music, My Experience with Existence | Tags: , ,

School is a bitch.

Yesterday was Rachael’s sixteenth birthday.  Derek dubbed it Satan Day, since he refers to her as Satan and there is a six in her age this year.  And coincidentally, there was a fire at Deep Run on her birthday in a boys’ bathroom.  Of course, I wasn’t there or anything, but you know that was the work of Satan.  As in, it was the work of Rachael.  My sister.

You’d think the people who are in my life right now would try and understand what’s going on.  But it seems like the people from my six-months-ago past and the people who are slowly seeping into my life now are the ones who really get it.  When Liz went through the KFC drive-thru over break, lo and behold! my childhood best friend was working the window.  But I hadn’t seen her in years, so I said nothing, and she couldn’t see me in the darkness of the passenger seat, anyway.

I change so much, though, that no one would recognize me if it wasn’t for forced family gatherings.  It’s too weird going back to Bethlehem now.  All these old people who say, “I haven’t seen you since you were this high!  Do you remember me?!”  All expectantly.  Of course I don’t remember them.  I’m seventeen now and they’re dying.  They’ve missed my most awkward stages, and now I just kind of sit there and don’t say much because I can feel the tension.  And it’s because my parents are separated.  They now hate my mom, and I look just like her and I chose to live with her.  My paternal grandmother skirted around the issue by saying that I look just like my Aunt Katie, who is my mom’s sister.  And because of these attitudes, I wear my looks like a badge of pride.  When we went to Main Street with my maternal Grandmom, two old family friends said that I looked just like her, just like Grandmom, just like Patty, my mom.  Relaying that to my dad’s mother, it made me think of the way Erika thumped her chest when someone asked if I was her friend.  Damn straight.  I am my mother’s child.

I do not know what my resolution is yet.  But I do know that I would like this.

Be Still My Heart | The Postal Service

I am also nervous for tomorrow, when Derek will listen to the song that reminds me of him.  Haha.  I get so defensive of music, especially in the presence of people whose opinions I care about.