tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84470232077626171302024-03-14T00:27:23.795-04:00Story of My LifeThis is a saying that can be taken many ways. Here it can mean whatever you want it to. Yes that is very hippie-like of me. No, I am not on drugs, I am not retarded, and I have never and will never shoplift, despite peer pressure to do so. Sorry to disappoint you, but no one needs that with all the awfulness already existing in the world. Have you SEEN the gas prices lately? Yeesh...already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-69334391813301369532010-07-14T23:34:00.002-04:002010-07-14T23:47:53.386-04:00My Posting Inconsistancy = AstoundingI am lying on my roof. Out here under these stars it's like a mountain just for me. This is my corner of the universe, a piece of heaven dedicated to inspiring only my heart. There is a too-bright streetlight interfering with the stars' visibility, and cars rush by far off but sound so close. A duck keeps quacking in my yard; how did a duck get in my yard? Why isn't he over with his little friends in the pond across the way (aka 'the street'). And what do his melancholy/joyous/opressed/celebratory calls of 'quackquack' MEAN? Oh gosh is he coming closer?! It's like he's fading in and out... please fly away from me little ducky I love you dearly but I am terrifies you will bite my face. (Yes lovely readers, this is true terror you hear in my voice. I will run away from that duck, just you watch. No no no nooooo now there's a GEESE TOO!!!!! save me)<br /><br />But these stars, the hundred or so I can see, make me stall. How can I flee from the perfect night that belongs to me (and Dylan the Duck)?<br /><br /><br />PS: OK the little monstrous nocturnal 'quackquack' duck needs a name. I lean towards Dylan, Reynold, Raymond, Reginald, or Julian. Julian the Duck. Julian Duck. I think that's a good one. Julian agrees, but he's open to suggestions. How about Frank? Nah... you tell me!already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-84673632660511682092010-04-17T18:43:00.004-04:002010-04-17T19:07:03.307-04:00I've got the Sun in the Morning and the Moon at NightI should be cleaning right now.... But I'm not. Obviously.<br /><br />Not because I'm lazy, but because I DID clean the bathroom today, durig which time I managed to stick my foot to the floor with Windex. Yeah, I didn't know it was possible either!! And also, I've just felt pretty bad letting this page gather cyber dust and followers I never knew I had... Hi you people out there! Nice to see you!<br /><br />Blah blah blah.... Don't have a lot of interesting things on my mind right now. Except for lemons. Lemon flavored candy is soooo good, and I've only ever had two pieces of lemon flavored candy in my life, and I want one really badly right now. :) The hard candy kind, because gummy candy is nice and all, but not really if it's of the lemon variety. Unless it's a Skittle, and I won't get into my Skittles OCD right now. (remind me for a later post)<br /><br />Anyway, I figured I may as well let you know I haven't died yet and I love lemon candy.<br /><br />Did anyone notice that spectacular music thingy I put to the right ove there? I have "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera on it because:<br /><br />a) it reminds me I need to see the last 5-7 minutes of the movie and<br />b) I was going to sing that song to audition for my high school's best choir. But of course I'm really nervous, and also I've got a new song I may sing, and I just don't even know if I can try out for it I'm so anxious. I mean, thus is why I don't even vlog--I am way to shy for a camera! So how can I be a member of a group that sings and dances spectacularly if I can't even sing in the shower is other people are home?<br /><br />Enough of my prattling on about that. At any rate, you all should check out listen.grooveshark.com. It has tons of free music available to play right from the Internet, and you can create your own little Widget dealio like that one I have. I'm planning to add more music soon, and I'll put on some of my favorite They Might Be Giants and Police and BNL songs. And Nick Drake, if I can find any!!!<br /><br />Seriously, look up Nick Drake on Google if you don't know him. I. LOVE. him. So if you for some reason are a goofy turtle and don't want to stalk Nick Drake, don't tell me. Just look him up, love him, and watch the movie "Serendipity" with John Cusak (I mean, he's in it, you don't have to watch the movie WITH HIM) because they play a ton of Nick Drake songs. Also, if you've ever seen "The Blind Side" (recently out on DVD), it opens with a cover of a Nick Drake song that is almost halfway decent (which doesn't make it sound like it's good, but it is. Just not spendiferous or phenominal.).<br /><br />So you have your homework now... Class Dismissed! :)<br /><br />PS: Nick Drake is dead, so you can't stalk him anyway. Besides, he'd be MY bff only if he WERE alive. :)already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-78778521417076004552010-01-01T01:40:00.002-05:002010-01-01T01:51:51.961-05:00My First Post of 2010Yep, this is my first post of 2010. It sure feels like 2010....<br /><br />This is actually me this year, up at 1:41 AM typing away wondering where the people go after the ball's dropped in Time Square. Funny thing, I never imagine Time as being square. I had a square watch once, but that's not the same, not quite what I mean. Time is something I often just try to forget. I don't want it to pass, I don't want it to stop--I definitely want it to speed up to te god times, then slow den while they're here. But Time has no face for me. The Sandman and Father Time and The New Year Baby or whoever--they all seem to ignore me. I think I was put here by mistake. Wrong decade wrong family wrong wrong wrong. I should be in the 20s or 50s or 60s or sometime between. Somewhere after 1902, but before 1994 when I was born. I feel I should be dead now, letting you all get along.<br /><br />2010 was not a year made to be Catherine-Friendly. I can tell. Watch out, I'll be next....<br /><br /><br />I just think New Years are fun. It's like Christmas, the magic is the before part not the after part. Once it's past, there's only the wrappings left over. Only for small children drinking sparkling juices is there much left in the celbration--much like some adults I know, the party ends at the bottom of the last bottle.<br /><br />Happy New Year! Here's to future days of sun and snow and breathing with ease in open spaces; here's to future nights awake with insomnia, star gazing and TV channel surfing, comparing your life to the Truman Show.<br /><br />"And in case I don't see ya: good afternoon, good evening, and good night!"already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-37333416622374391092009-12-15T18:17:00.005-05:002009-12-15T19:18:25.932-05:00Christmasness<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Christmasness. </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">n.</span></span></i><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1. Being of the Christmas spirit, feeling, or nature.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"I'm so full of Christmasness right now!"</span></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">2. Snowy/gift-buying weather.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"The air was thick with the Christmasness that took over every year."</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">3. That one feeling where it's pure and happy and sweet, but not like candy, more like when you're little and making a wish on a star or you're about to open that really big present on your birthday--the feeling that is before Christmas itself, but is everything that Christmas should be.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Christmasness lit up every face with a bright smile, in spite of lost credit cards, tantrum-throwing children, and stores that ran out of what you wanted right before you got there."</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">********************************************************************</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Obviously something is on my mind... can you guess?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">CHRISTMAS!!!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Or rather, not Christmas itself, but ChristmasNESS, the meaning of which is displayed above in lovely Webster Form. Please, enlighten yourself to the third definition if you haven't already, so you know what I mean.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Christmas is just the best time of the year, of course, but not for the holiday itself. I love the feeling and the smiles and when you hand someone a card or gift and they are your best friend for just a minute, because you made their day that much better. I'm addicted to that way people take a gift and open it and you have that moment of "Wow, I'm so glad I thought of them, and now we're all happy" that fades so slowly, never quite going, like how glow sticks always seem to glow in the dark for months after.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My Christmas List is pretty short this year:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ~socks (cute ones, fuzzy, or toe-socks, or with a pattern on them that's crazy and different)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ~gift cards (for music or books)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ~snow, every morning (6 am-8 am) and midnight-2 am from December 18 'til New Years or a few days after. Maybe not every day, but enough snow to make a snow-person-sculpture-garden and snow angels on my roof to watch the snowing stars until white cream clouds cover them.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That's all! Not a lot to ask for. Just that last one may be a tiny bit harder to get than the other two. Not like you can go to eBay and order up a miniature blizzard every for three weeks. Wish I could--that would be the perfect gift for everyone! (Seriously, Lake Eerie is RIGHT THERE, why hasn't it snowed, even a sugar-dusting over? Enough to stick to trees and turn them into ice-coated spills of ink up in the sky, make the houses and mailboxes cry silver tears that freeze and are stolen by little hands--I miss icicles! I miss snow flakes and ice skating and walking for miles to come home for hot chocolate or soup or coffee after a day with friends!)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Christmas carols are sad and wonderful at once somehow. I love them, I can sing along and laugh and they're lovely. I need to be baking though, otherwise it's just my voice and the radio and there's something empty in there. I like Christmas carols that fill up Christmasness, complete it, but some of them are too processed to do that, they only detract.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">History is a bad class, bad teacher, can't stand it. I don't know why I hate history so much. But I do. That's just something that popped into my head for some reason--probably because I have to type a paper and write fifteen flash cards, and I'm procrastinating. I meant to take care of all that this past weekend, but instead I went shopping and bought things for friends.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I love Christmas!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">********************************************************************</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Christmas </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">n.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">1. The annual Christian festival celebrating Christ's birth, held on December 25.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"I love Christmas!"</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">2. The period immediately before or after December 25.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"We had guests over Christmas."</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">exclamation, informal</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">3. Expressing surprise, dismay, or despair.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Christmas! I forgot my glasses in Russia!"</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">********************************************************************</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So many definitions.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Alright. I'm officially ending this post.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Merry Christmas (ten days early) to all, and to all a good night!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">PS: I am singing a solo for chorus. :l Good or bad, goodorbad? I can't decide. It's paid for, but I may withdraw, especially if anyone in any of the choir ensembles finds out. If people have to watch me and I fail, I'll die, especially when they say I did well and I'll know they're lying. The piece is </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ave Maria</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> by Schubert, which is good because I love that song. Must go practice that... and do homework... and take cold medicine... and maybe get more than five hours of sleep tonight. Yay insomnia. :) (Kinda.)</span></span></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-30592777524417040962009-09-01T22:07:00.003-04:002009-09-01T22:20:25.873-04:00Inspiration<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Finally, I get inspired to write a productive and thoughtful post! Or, so I think....</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So at lunch, I just was thinking about how people choose sides to arguments, and they say "If you're not for me, you're against me", and people say "there are two sides to every story". Well, I disagree. There are certainly two sides to every story, but there are not ONLY two. The sides to any story, argument, opinion... are infinite. There are too many sides for anyone to be only on one side, or for any individual to get a whole side all to themselves.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The logic makes sense, I promise!! There are always going to be more view points, more opinions on opinions on opinions that overlap and run together and create what can only be called (for lack of a non-geometric-related term floating in my head at the moment) an n-gon. You know, like a pentagon, "pent" is five, or a heptagon, "hept" is seven. So on and so on. A shape that has not yet been given an identified number of sides is an "n-gon". "N" being a variable that has no specific value, as it could fluxuate (love that word!) and change at any moment. (Ha, who says you can't learn from me? This is excellent wisdom right here, even with a little bit of sense thrown in!)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So... the "n-gon" is the opinion, argument, subject-of-discussion.... And as such, there is NO END to the number of sides that you could take, that other people could take, there is too much information for one person to know, so they stick with what they have and turn anything that isn't into the opposite, causing the majorly mistaken conclusion to be drawn that the world actually IS black-and-white, good-and-bad, here-and-there, sofa or couch!! (Sorry, don't know where that last one came from. But it sounds nice there, I think I'll leave it.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">To restate for those of you who just skipped along down to the bottom of the post in hopes that I would talk about something else: you can't choose sides on anything. The world will always be just beyond your understanding. That's the way life goes.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It's so good to be back. :)</span></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-90655540674983082532009-08-25T10:23:00.000-04:002009-08-25T10:24:24.579-04:00SCHOOL<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">School starts in about... 2 hours.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I am curling my hair.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Shortest post </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">ever</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">.</span></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-86071845300927421062009-08-08T12:01:00.002-04:002009-08-08T12:04:41.021-04:00HG 59507460 A<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I figure, I haven't posted in a while, and it doesn't even matter that that last one didn't get any comments, I wasn't really looking for comments anyway. So I just might as well post something here.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Well, you can see the title of this post is rather nonsensical and odd. It is actually and truly the number that was on the front of a $5 bill I did not want to lose, so I just memorized the number on the front for identification purposes. I will always be able to recall the number of that $5 bill, I know....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This was a very short post. If you want to listen to me rant more, there are more posts below this one. Or you can just leave. Whatever.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I love the world, don't die anyone! :)</span></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-10427681798941994762009-07-26T13:25:00.006-04:002009-07-26T13:50:54.582-04:00Zen and Kool-Aid Man<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Yeah, I don't know what I'm thinking, so I figure I'd best sort my thoughts out here and now. Here goes nothing.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Koans. That's the "zen" part of my title. I was just thinking about those things, like "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" and "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound?" I have the answers. Respectively, they are:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">1. a quiet sound, like the wet wrinkly foot of an old person hitting the linoleum of the kitchen floor on a chilly end-of-August morning as they get up to make some cinnamon hot chocolate.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">2. yes. but you don't deserve to hear it, so that's why you don't.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">And you must accept those answers. I thought of them very recently and they are completely correct. <i>Ne question pas </i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">le zen cerveau de moi!!!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "> Now, I am going to leave the zen portion for today.</span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Kool-Aid Man--kreepy name, kreepy spelling. He's creepy. (kreepy??) He's not cool (kool??), and what's up with him bursting through walls and no one gets upset? And he can do flips and skate-board with no helmet and none of his icy (iky??) kool-aid spills. I always knew the laws of physics don't apply to tall people... even if they are just large animated freaks in bad commercials attempting to market disgusting sugar-filled juice (juike??) products (produkts??). (Yeah, I am going to stop replacing all "c"s with "k"s now. Thank you for enduring that.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Not to mention, Kool-Aid Man gives out kool-aid. Doesn't he feel like he's losing brethren as each child sips away filthy red liquid from opaque plastic cups? Maybe he's a cannibal, because that would make sense. OOOORRRRRRR, more likely, Kool-Aid Man has an evil plot that requires him to give out samples of his nauseating, repelling goods, and somehow we will all soon be enslaved by talking pitchers and domesticated parrots (who, as the History Channel so interestingly informed me, will be taking over in large flocks once we humans are gone).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So that settles the matter! Don't buy Kool-Aid ever again, or else you alone will be responsible for the destruction of life as we know it! No, I am NOT overreacting!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Also, if you'd like to use the spare time you now have because you are no longer buying kool-aid, you can tell me your favorite koan in a comment and I will answer it for you. :)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">PS: I've ALREADY HEARD the one about "If a man talks in a forest, and no woman is around to hear him, is he still wrong?" The answer is long and complicated. I refuse to explain it to people who probably don't want to know anyway.</span></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-35427273963144003092009-07-09T13:41:00.006-04:002009-07-17T16:18:10.464-04:00Tid-Bits<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I will now proceed to tell a few random things about myself.</div><div><br /></div> 1. </span>I don't know if I've told you before, but some of my dreams have a habit of coming true. Maybe you remember the Stone-Lab-Slideshow-Dream Incident?? I dreamt that the teacher took a picture of people playing frisbee among some large trees, and that the one person (name not to be mentioned) was running into a tree, and there I was in the background, blurry, but recognizable by my bright pink jacket, and the picture was in a slideshow at the end of the year--and I told all of the people present about this dream, so they can vouch for me if anyone thinks I'm crazy. And it came true.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>2. I enjoy creating acronyms. Some may recall "T.O.A.S.T. (Teens Offering A Supply of Toasters) for France", which was my charity idea so that French people could have toast. Because my French teacher told me that it is exceedingly rare for French people to eat sliced bread. So maybe if they all had toasters, they'd buy sliced bread. At the time I came up with this acronym, I had been having an obsessive craving for toast which has mostly passed at the present time.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>3. I want a winter home in Alaska--and please, don't tell me that the 19 straight hours of darkness will depress me, or I'll die due to lack of Vitamin D, because I will make sure to eat lots of broccoli and I love the stars, so 19 hours is plenty of time for star-gazing. I'll love it, truly. Plus, does anyone else just feel more alive, and vividly awake at night? In the dead of the darkness with no one else around and everything is still and all you can think is that the world could have ended and it would feel no different from this? There is something strange and interesting about nighttime that I love very much.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>4. I have a Christmas list forming in my mind at this very moment. No that is NOT wrong, it's not like it's January! It's JULY people! Think of CHRISTMAS IN JULY!!! Anyway, here's my immediate list:</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">- a real evergreen tree, not the fake one from our basement, to hang ornaments on</div><div style="text-align: center;">- spearmint candy canes, because they taste better than peppermint</div><div style="text-align: center;">- mandolin, because I've been wanting one for almost 2 years now</div><div style="text-align: center;">- a job, so that I can make money without knitting (which gets vvvvveeeerrrryyyy old, very fast)</div><div style="text-align: center;">- gift cards for iTunes and Barnes&Noble, because I love both music and books. Lots and lots of books. And music.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Alright, I guess that's all I'm willing to divulge at the present. Maybe I'll do this again sometime. Tell me your thoughts on my thoughts!! :)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">PS: That was me, subtly hint-hint-hinting to LEAVE A COMMENT!! YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!! (And you know I know who you are. And I know you know I know who you are. And you know I know you know I know who you are....)</div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-11170276035525991962009-07-04T14:26:00.005-04:002009-07-04T14:38:06.662-04:00Independence Day (not the movie!)<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>OK, I know you all must think I'm seriously depressed or messed up or something after my last post, and I haven't written in a while, I have not been very inspired. But today is July Fourth. A year ago, I was in Virginia, REMEMBER? :) At the time, almost an exact year ago (it will be exactly ONE YEAR in approximately eight hours or something, I'll have to check...), I was typing on the computer in my cousin's room and listening to my uncle tell my little cousins all about the Declaration of Independence, etc. etc. It was nice. I miss them, wish I could have gone again this summer, 'cuz there's a NEW little cousin now, her name is Julia Elizabeth. Not to be said together or anything, but the names Julia and Elizabeth sound so nice together I think I'll call her that until she's old enough to ask me to stop.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What I miss most about VA, besides my family, is probably shopping with my cousins' cousin who was about my age. And seeing that GUY. (Yes, yes, THAT one, if you know who I'm talking about, good for you! If not, you probably weren't meant to know....) Oooh, I'd travel twelve hours with my brother and sister and parents all talking in the car if he'd still be there. I seriously would. And for those of you who have met my sister at her worst, you know that means a whole lot more than you could interpret if you HAVEN'T met my sister at her worst. So yeah, it basically means I'd accept death than never see HIM again.... :) Strong words coming from me, you all know. Too bad though, I have to stay stuck where I am. Play tennis. Plan evil obnoxious outings. Make fun of lame movies. Wonder why Global Warming has caused all the bugs to virtually disappear for this summer--seriously, what's the deal??</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, my rambling on has gone on forever now, and I'm much much better than my previous post, thanks to everyone, you guys are my friends for a reason. :) (Yes I still miss him; no not HIM-HIM, see my last post if you're confused about who I'm talking about.)</div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-30290956209652744912009-06-11T19:14:00.003-04:002009-06-11T19:21:04.551-04:00Lamenting the Loss of a Rabbit<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Rabbit foot--</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">with no rabbit--<br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Not so lucky.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">My rabbit,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Steel, Steve, Bunny,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This rabbit was.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">WAS.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Maybe is.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Maybe not.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Still mine.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Wherever he goes.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Be happy,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Lucky little rabbit.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">This post is dedicated to my Rabbit,</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">My Steel, My Steve, My Bunny,</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Who left this Universe</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">at 3:10 this past afternoon,</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Thursday June 11</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">2009 AD.</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">R.I.P.</span></span></div></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-64728664822142047212009-06-10T00:01:00.005-04:002009-06-10T15:49:08.228-04:00I'm a Pisces<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I'm a Pisces. I've been reading about my Zodiac-star-sun-sign thing or whatever, Pisces, and I just like how it's a 99.99999999999% perfect match for me! I wonder if it's just a coincidence. But it's an awful lot of coincidences... like the stone "Moonstone" somehow connects to Pisces (love moon stones!), and "sea green" is one of my favorite colors and also connecting (maybe you've heard my rants, maybe not...), and I am slightly artistically inclined in the way of music and art and literature, and I do find my personality to be rather that of an "old soul" like the sign describes--not at all that I'm a decrepit elderly person, but in the way that I was born in the wrong time. (I will thank Chels and others to keep their opinions to themselves on the statement that I should have been born in the Victorian era!!!)<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Apparently Pisces enjoy gift-giving (without preference to receiving anything back, just like me), daydreaming (who remembers when I was so zoned out I stopped breathing--yes, I am expecting raised hands on this one!), and need to be grounded by their friends personalities based on their friends Zodiac-star-sun-sign things. I guess this means I have to go find some Gemini, Leo, and Taurus friends you guys! See you! Nah, I'm totally happy to be all me and I love my friends!!! Miss you all!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>But seriously, please check out these sites and tell me it isn't... ME.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>http://www.astrology-online.com/pisces.htm<br /></div><div>http://www.pisces.com/index.html<br /></div><div>http://www.astrology.com/allaboutyou/sunsigns/pisces.html<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Really, what's the likeliness?!? I can't believe it, but it HAS to be more than coincidence, after all my parents never told me anything about "New Age" culture and whatnot. But I don't really believe in it anyway. I just love fish--especially in the form of Sushi! :) Ooo, wait... is that to be considered cannibalism?<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Side note: we are in the age of the Pisces Zodiac sign until the year 2051! Woohoo! Here's to another 32 years of fish! :)</div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-63205700344364877432009-06-07T12:12:00.003-04:002009-06-07T12:20:56.705-04:00Pluto is SO a Planet!<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Just figured I'd tell everyone: Pluto is, has always been, and always will be a planet! Pluto is my favorite planet, followed by Neptune, and I don't care what those stupid and crazy scientists decided! About 25 trillion (or 25,000 million, however you prefer to read it) years from now, when the first three planets closest to the sun are swallowed by the sun, people will be GRATEFUL Pluto is a planet! GRATEFUL! (*Note: please see end of my previous post for other comments about "grateful". Seriously, go look!) Although, no one will probably be around because either we'll be:<div><br /></div><div>a) an extinct species</div><div>b) dead of heat stroke, every one of us, or</div><div>c) uncaring of exactly which planet is which anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Whatever the reasoning, I just hope that SOMEDAY people will realize that PLUTO IS THE BEST PLANET EVER.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Sorry if I've ranted about this before, but I had to again. If I didn't rant about this before on this blog, the subject has probably come up in casual conversation at least. If you're sick of it, say "aye"! No, not really. I'll steal your keyboard before you can type it.<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-67468822847394924942009-06-02T18:32:00.003-04:002009-06-02T18:45:49.747-04:00Sweet?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Alright, end of school coming up.... In like two days. This is so without warning! How on Earth can the administration expect me to say good-bye to all my lovely friends when all anyone's worried about is EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS??? There's no way. So I'll say so here:<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Good-bye everyone! I had a wonderful year with you, I love you all, miss you so much already, I'll send postcards, Bon Voyage, etc. etc.!!!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The Seniors have the perfect way to say good-bye to everyone though. They just pass out zillions of their senior photos--Prom pics, concert pics, year book/club photos, professional casuals, head shots, full-body shots, cool and quirky and making-me-nostalgic, 'cuz whatever Senior gives me a photo, I know I can never know them and all their perfect memories or their sad ones, so I just read the note and say "Thanks, good luck, congrats, etc. etc.". But you know what? No matter WHO it is, whether they know me all that well or not, their notes start out the same:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Cat: You are so sweet! You're really nice, such a good person, even if you're really really quiet! Good luck with the rest of High School, Have fun, I'll miss you!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Your friend,<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>(enter name of Senior here)"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> Sweet? Me? Really? The quiet thing I get, but am I really SWEET? Like a cough drop, I'd guess. Kind of bitter with an off-flavor. Not that I'm ungrateful. I really think those people are so wonderful to take their time and pretty-colored pens just to write me a little farewell. I will not complain further.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>One last thought before I go: "wonderFUL" means FULL of wonder; "grateFUL" means FULL of grate (i.e., appreciation); however "awFUL" does NOT mean FULL of aw/awe--it means pretty much the opposite. Explain THAT to me satisfactorily, if you can. Just try, this one honestly has me flummoxed. And flummoxFUL. Yep, that would mean FULL of flummox.<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-35232955241267480722009-05-29T19:49:00.005-04:002009-05-29T20:08:11.468-04:00Yup, I'm....<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Take no notice of the title. I just wanted to say that. Write it. Whatever. Anyway, I have been looking at my posts and decided that recently they have been particularly bland and effortless. Of course, I tried at the time, but in retro-spect (I know that word's not hyphen-ated but -I- li-ke hy-ph-en-szszszszs.) they are much like the Saltine crackers of my blog. Nice in their own right, for a while at least, but many more of them and my raving, rabid, rabies (whoops, not that one, sorry!) readers would really retaliate reprehensibly. Is that enough "r"-starting-with words for you? It was for me, I never want to use an "r" again--they now make me feel <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">r</span>athe<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">r</span> (dang it, the<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">r</span>e's two... shoot, one mo<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">r</span>e... NNNOOOOOO!!! they'<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">r</span>e enti<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">r</span>ely unavoidable<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">r</span> than I thought!!!) nauseous. It'll pass though.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, I was just thinking today about how silly it is that the closer you get to the end of the school year (June fourth for me, YAY<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">.</span>) the more teachers seem to insist upon giving you one final project, test, homework assignment, chapter to read, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">whatever</span>. And I just want to know (perfectly truly and honestly): WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??? Why am I not allowed to relax in my final days before the half toil/half freeness of summer comes about and I am once again left at home six days a week with only a rabbit for company? WHY?<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>But that's not why I was writing. I was simply going to tell anyone who cares that I am not going to bother tanning this summer, because it just winds up groty and peeling by three days later, no matter how well it looked first off. And, in other news: the first ice cream truck of the year came around today. I never knew they still existed before I moved here six years ago. I was always so happy, even though I only ever bought one popsicle from one of them once, because the music sounded like wind-chimes and magic and happiness. Today, it sounded like a broken, worn-out music box. Why do things change on me like that?</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>That was going to be all--that tiny bit I just wrote directly above, skipping the first two parts. But if I'd stopped after that, this would have just been another plain old Saltine then, wouldn't it? Welcome back, old posting style! I missed you! (Yeah, those last two exclamations there.... They <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">were</span> me talking to my style of writing. And I am glad I said it, for it shall never feel under-appreciated again.)<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-40528885007715652892009-04-30T18:03:00.005-04:002009-05-23T10:11:13.689-04:00Telemarketers and/or Global Warming, Part II<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Yes, this is part TWO. Go find the first post if you must see Part One. It is quite amusing, in retrospect, for me at least.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Anyway, I don't remember what on earth I was going to say about Global Warming. Perhaps at the time I had irrefutable evidence that telemarketers were the cause of it? Maybe the ozone layer does not exist, thus explaining the large hole in it? Or maybe a cure for it. We'll never know.<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">However, I wrote down the telemarketing thing. It is a suggestion of what to do, should you ever have the desire to fully infuriate a telemarketer. Please use at your own will, though at the same time, responsibly and with as much discretion as possible. Thank you.<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Here's the example:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Okay, now I can't find that either!!! What the heck is wrong with me?!? I always misplace stuff.... But this is particularly upsetting because 1) it was really quite hysterical and 2) it was written n my journal that contained about eight months worth of information!!!!! Experiences, rants, laughs, cries, annoyances and memories that are forever lost and I'll never be able to recover! It's actually very heartbreaking....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">So never mind. If I ever find out where I put that journal though, I will post the thoughts under the title "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Telemarketers and/or Global Warming, Part III</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">". 'Til next time I suppose....</span></span></span><br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-11304433127321831282009-04-22T21:39:00.003-04:002009-04-22T21:41:46.482-04:00April 22--Best Day Ever<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I'm not saying why today is the best day ever. It goes without saying.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Happy Earth Day! Plant a tree, turn off your TV, watch the sky and think of me! I'll be naming every constellation out there, so just looking at the sky will brighten our connections to each other! (If you don't understand this, read my previous post.)<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Feel free to comment! Be awesome! I love the World! Good Night! :)<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-20493843925359293402009-04-17T22:53:00.005-04:002009-04-17T23:07:06.811-04:00This is Significant<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's so so ODD to think about this: ALL OF US. We're all here, same time, same place, living totally different lives, yet we're somehow connected in ways too complex to understand--a billion connections to a single person, and a billion connections away from them.... Life. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">You are right now IN THE LIVES of so many other people, yet at the same time, not with them at all. And connected in a billion ways you'll never know, because it's so complex. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are all TOGETHER and a million miles away at the same time, and we're never going to know who we change and who changes us, but one day we'll realize (like I have tonight) that we are all LINKED. This is a significant piece of information to me. Sometimes late night mind-wanderings are the times when it hits me hardest that WE EXIST and WE WILL LIVE and WE WILL DIE.</span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And it scares me. But in a good kind of way, that is more like the feeling you get from looking down a two thousand foot drop off a cliff into a valley in a haze of fog, and you aren't wearing any protective gear at all--like a parachute, or helmet, or elbow/knee-pads, or a bungee cord, or any rope at all. It's just you and the air and nothing but an inch between life and death. That's how close I've gotten to the edge of the universe without doing more than leave the roof outside my window as I look at the stars, which in comparison, make this very very insignificant.</span><br /></span></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-25096652375910983862009-04-08T16:38:00.006-04:002009-04-08T22:25:33.441-04:00Look at THIS!!! :D<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I made a video for my English project about <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Romeo and Juliet</span>. (No, it was NOT about Susan. I wish though!!!) Actually, we had an assignment to create a visual based on dominoes, and the fact that one event falling leads to another leads to another, just like dominoes. Anyway, my video was very symbolic and amazing (I thought--and I wouldn't be able to tell you I thought it was amazing if I really didn't think it was amazing, so please be nice about it). I'm going to post it, you should watch it, and then tell me that you love the song. That's right--I put it all to "Romeo and Juliet" by the Killers. :)<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyaBpx8uw-4kH-TkBQa_wgzSz3zebIvwqYCehcixq-mDxxYi8chNnw_EAQHA65BSEWbRuQ2-x2Mv7rpY7vUVg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-24771767291390645192009-04-04T21:45:00.003-04:002009-04-04T22:00:08.495-04:00Telemarketers and/or Global Warming<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I have no clue what I am going to say in this post. I will not delete antthing. ~antth~ dang it ~anything~. Not even typos, as you have seen. This is pretty fu ~fun~ actually. I'm just typing whatever comes on ~into~ my head. (**Note: whatever I put in "~~" those squiggle things is my attempt to correct typos. Deal with it. i have to, and I'm all OCD about grammar, punctuation, spelling, etc.) So you're getting a look at whatever I think, no censored things, stuf ~stuff~, memories, deals whatever. Maybe I'll think about something entirely humiliating and you'll get to see it! Lucky you! Or maybe not, depending. Anyway, I better type about the subject title of this post, or else I'll forget, as per usual.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Telemarketers. Actually, you know, that's such a freaking lon ~long~ (but very cool) rant I have writtend ~written~ Wait, just let me start that sentence over. Just the second half after "rant" though; "I have written it down in my journal". There. phew. I bet you didn't even know I HAD a journal, what with already having the blog, facebook, email, IM, and three different writing avv shoot ~accounts~ set up on different websites. I guess I do a lot of writing. Hmm. Maybe I have a disease or something. I ~Or~ just a lot of thoughts.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Shoot. You know, my hands are cramping from the stress of trying to type with as few mastakes ~mistakes~ as possible, because they're getting really annoying, so I'll just r dang ~writer~ shoot !~ FRICK ~<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">WRITE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">~ about global warming later too. So this post is pointless. But I darn it i hate friggin computers shoot this keyboard kill microsoft dang--anyway. I'LL TYPE NORMALLY TOMORROW. Or you know, as normal as I csan WHY CAN'T I TYPE?@?@?@!?!?! OK, this is me, siging danf i mean DANG ~signing~ off for now.</span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Bye.<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-52315171356985809322009-04-01T07:29:00.003-04:002009-04-01T07:38:32.385-04:00April Fool's Day<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I hate this day so so much. People now have a HOLIDAY seemingly dedicated to make ME the target of more jokes. Honestly, aren't you all laughing your heads off at me all the time anyway? Don't you ever get tired of it? Well I am SICK OF IT, hear me?!?!?!?! I am never going to talk to any of you AGAIN. Ha, see if you can laugh at me NOW, especially once I block all of you from this page FOREVER!!!<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">* * *</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>APRIL FOOL'S!!! Ha ha ha, I'd never do that to you guys! You saw that coming right? I mean, that was the TITLE, my GOSH. If you didn't get that before it happened, go see a doctor. Today. Seriously, like, pick up the phone and make an appointment for yourself RIGHT NOW. (This is not a drill, I repeat, this is NOT a drill!!! I don't know why I wrote that, ha ha ha. Being up early does stuff to my head....)<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Aw, guys, really I love all my friends! Happy April Fool's Day, see you in a few years!!! :)<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-31239610192760526572009-03-26T20:50:00.003-04:002009-03-26T21:02:18.718-04:00I Have No Appropriate Title to Suit This Post<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>This is an update post only. Nothing much interesting here. So if you want a quick little overview type thing, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">just read what's in bold and italics</span></span>.<div><br /></div><div>~<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">The tree should be named Paul Dano</span></span>, just 'cuz he's the best.</div><div><br /></div><div>~<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">I love the bands "Jimmy Eat World" and "Social Distortion".</span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Look them up.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">~<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">I bought socks and tic tacs</span></span> at Walmart. The socks are for a friend and a extremely cute, and I shan't say more (yup, I really did just use the word "shan't" and I couldn't care less what you think, no offense you know.) because that may ruin everything. The tic tacs are cherry flavored and VVVEEERRRYYY yummy. :)</span></div><div><br /></div><div>~<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">I got a Facebook</span></span> after I decided I'd just have to face my fear of becoming addicted to it. And guess what? After 3 weeks, I'm still not addicted to Facebook!!! (But I AM addicted to the Superflair function. Facebook users, BEWARE!!!!! Ha ha ha, I seriously love that application more than almost anything else on Facebook.)</div><div><br /></div><div>~<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I didn't get the new Maximum Ride novel</span></span> from Walmart, even though I so wanted it so much I thought I'd DIE, so I'm getting my brother to drive me tomorrow, which is when I shall finally buy it. YAY!!!</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Alrighty then, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">that's all</span></span> for tonight. But before I sigh off, here's a quick little shout-out thingy to some awesome people: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Happy Birthday</span></span> to Kia, Kinz, Chels, and anyone else who's bday isn't really today but has occurred already or shall this year! (If you birthday <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">is</span> today on the other hand, that's just tough luck for you!)<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-73094469970704424582009-03-04T16:04:00.003-05:002009-03-04T16:12:42.004-05:00Hmm.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>OK, I have read all of Romeo and Juliet multiple times, and I have concluded:<div><br /></div><div>a) it is a dirty play with too many sex jokes.</div><div><br /></div><div>b) Romeo is a stalker. (Really, how <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">did</span> he know which room was Juliet's?)</div><div><br /></div><div>c) Shakespeare was almost as sarcastic as I am.</div><div><br /></div><div>d) The whole thing is Susan's fault.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Even so, Susan is my favorite character. A friend and I now have plans to name our English teacher's tree Susan. I think it'll work OK. Who wouldn't want a small houseplant named after one of Shakespeare's greatest (in my opinion) characters? : )<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-66679897554737856432009-02-19T20:03:00.011-05:002009-02-19T20:40:22.256-05:00Life Goes On<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Some song just popped into my head when I started typing, so the title is now "Life Goes On" thanks to the lyrics to a song I don't recall all the way that went something like "Life goes o-o-on, like this so-ooong... I can't wait for the world to sing, I can't wait to be happening...." on and on and such. Not an amazingly awesome song, but quite fitting whatever mood my brain is in apparently, or else I wouldn't have recalled it, right? I believe my brain's moods differ from my own.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So, as my English class is going to be reading Shakespeare's classic (<u>Romeo and Juliet</u>, duh!) soon, I'm going to give you all this wonderful little link to the best video recording of the Killers doing a cover of the song "Romeo and Juliet". The song manages to shed a funny light on the whole story, despite the mass killings and high suicide rates. (Alright, I am exaggerating a bit, calm down, I can say what I want! Man, I've never said that before. Weird to do so now....) Here's the link:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87cLyBR1JTo</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>And if you're too lazy, or think the Dire Straits version is better (I'm a die-hard Killers fan, so I must disagree with those of you don't appreciate music like "When You Were Young", "Sam's Town", "Human", etc.) here are quotes from the song that I feel capture the most humorous essence of the song and the play:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">"Lovestruck Romeo, sang the streets a serenade, layin' everybody low, with a love song that he made; Found a streetlight, stepped outta the shade, said somethin' like: 'You and me babe, how 'bout it?' Juliet said 'Hey, it's Romeo! You nearly gave me a heart attack.'..."</span> (These are the first couple lines. I believe they accurately portray what basically happened in a way that the modern world can understand, with the way uncultured teens are--it's the truth, most teens don't bother with old English literature. Shameful.)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">"When you gonna realize, it was just that the time was wrong?"</span> (This is the last line of the chorus. I feel it sums up the whole suicide stuff nicely--the time was wrong, always. Wrong for them to meet, because Romeo wanted a rebound love from Rosaline--if only subconsciously--and wrong when they got married, because then Tybalt died--nice one Romeo! *rolling*eyes*--and wrong for Romeo to kill himself, because two seconds later Juliet wakes up to find a dead husband. Poor little 13 year old girl has to leave her family, accept the death of her cousin, and be willing to foresake her entire country for the love of a way older guy who commits suicide. I sense something wrong in that.)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Disagree?<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8447023207762617130.post-21121303412847526402009-02-14T19:09:00.003-05:002009-02-14T19:15:01.612-05:00Happy Valentine's Day.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>You know, this was originally a day to celebrate the St. Valentines of the Roman Catholic Church. They were both martyrs. That's romantic, isn't it? Yet somehow this winds up as the 2nd hugest commercial holiday of the year, and the 2nd biggest card-sending day--after Christmas of course. Anyone else wonder how Hallmark and all the other companies can get away with all this sort of stuff? I do, all the time. I can find no real reason that people feel the need to go buy a ton of material things for other people just so they feel loved.<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I'm giving you all something inmaterial today:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Whoever, wherever you are, whatever you're like, I don't care. I want you to know that I appreciate you and that you are absolutely a perfect being, no matter what you may say in your head about your small faults. It could always be worse, and look on the bright side: now you know someone likes you for you. Happy Non-Commercial Day of Unknown True Origin!<br /></div>already_in_the_airhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14732224506229345657noreply@blogger.com3