I'm so fucking tired but I have 2 modules/copies due.
I don't think I can make it.
Sleep, time to be embraced.
Sorry, my lovely editors.

It's sad how no one has the time or brain capacity for anyone one else.
I mean this in the most inoffensive way, really.

Insanity is inevitable.

Return the favor

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For McMina

Love The Hard Way and The Go-Getter

Love The Hard Way is a wonderful movie.
A gritty black-noir-esque film that just oozes lust and a biting sort of bitterness. It's also so achingly sad, it's almost hurts to continue watching. I love it.
Adrien Brody and Charlotte Ayana are in it. And they have better chemistry than the Jolie-Pitts in Mr. And Mrs. Smith.
Even now, I can't get past Adrien Brody's delicate acting! It's just so amazing---you can actually see the uncertainty in his eyes when he waits for a girl that may not come. You can see the pain while his ex-lover becomes a prostitute. It's so mind-blowing, I don't even know why.
Charlotte Ayana's eyes just seem to pierce a hole through your skull while watching; ironically it's like the only bright thing portrayed in this movie.
The cinematography is gorgeous.
The ending, you'd expect it to be much more depressing, but (more of this irony) it's almost more lighthearted than half the movie.

The Go-Getter is much cuter, and lighter. Nothing to heart-wrenching.
Zooey Dechannel is great it it, and Lou Taylor Pucci gives off a Micheal-Cera-worthy awkwardness, that's not too over-the-top. The acting seems natural, the soundtrack is amazing, and Jena Malone makes the perfect piece de restistance.
The cinematography is also beautiful. Unlike Love The Hard Way, it portrays nature in a non-black-grit, delicate way.

Turns out both movies are on Youtube. Go watch em.
Correction: Love The Hard Way isn't really on Youtube. Only snippets of it. Fack.

I'm a freak

I am a freak. Balls.
I was walking along nonchalantly when suddenly, out-of-the-fucking-blue: "You're pigeon-footed."
???
Pigeon-toes, according to Mr. Webster, means a persons toes point in while walking/standing.
Yeah, I've been walking like that since I was two. What's the problem?
You're a freak.
There's not exactly a problem with walking like a pigeon only:
1. I go through shoes like McNoir with peoples' patience.
2. My ankles are weaker than my stomach acid.
3. I can hear my hip bones crack (which mean I'll probably have an artificial hip by age 29)
4. I'm (as everyone knows) clumsier than Fergie herself.
5. I have deformed feet.
6. I have fucked-up knees that most likely need surgery.
How depressing---no wonder I grew up like this. I always had a feeling that I was different. Blame the toes.
Now I'm going to sulk, return some calls, and eat my Zebra popcorn.

La Tazza and movie

It's honestly too fucking cold to be summer. My feets are blocks of ice.
Not the best day at school...nice to know I ended Freshman year on a wonderful note (let the sarcasm roll down my throat)
But afterschool made my day.
La Tazza with Carmina! I love La Tazza! The drinks, the atmoshphere, the people who work there...
Then back home where we watched Vicky Cristina Barcelona, which, by-the-by is fantastic. Penelope Cruz, Scarlett Johannsen, and Rebecca Hall are to die for. I adore Woody Allen.

No more chips. Really.
I ate probably my weight in Cheddar Lays and I feel like absolute shit right now. I feel like my body has had to much fat and is puking up pus-like layers of goo.
Math Final tomorrow. Urgh.
I hope it did well in English today.
And, as for mon examen de francais today, let's pray to the euphemism God.
School's out.
Bastard weather lately.
New word: saudade (Portuguese, I think. It sums up my life quite perfectly for one word, I suppose)
La Tazza with Carmina and hopefully Ann tomorrow! I absolutely can't wait! I'm craving avocadoes and blended lattes.

Don't Stop Believing

I love Journey. I really do.
I've recently discovered the reason behind my constant fatigue and numb arms/legs: I'm majoring lacking Vitamin B-12. There's no way I'm going to be gorging myself on grass-fed beef liver, so I hardboiled two eggs (the first one came out raw--how on earth can I ruin an egg?) and had them for dinner. Felt like two silky-smooth, chickengina-tinted ovals of cholesterol sliding down my throat.
I'm trying to be more tolerant of people...and trying my best to say only the best. (I feel like such a Mormon, albeit the fact that I say God's name in vain at least 389207158 times a day)
I found an online auction that has the book I want.
I want to watch Ghost World.
I think I'm suffering from paranoia.
Is it me or has it been freezing cold at night? Calm me pathetic, but I've still been sleeping with 3 blankets nightly.
Finals are coming up. Eesh.

Cat Power does a mean Wonderwall

I feel like a kid again.
I've been given "time-limits" on the computer due to excess usage of ma soeur. And when it is my turn to use it, I either:
1) Forget what I wanted to do, so I end up spending most of my "Internet Ration" listening to music, looking up Bruce Robinson/Keith Murray/whoever-it-is-this-month and Wiking the latest books/movies I feel like reading/watching
2) Am constantly forced to one side of the already small, uncomfortably positioned chair while ma soeur continues to msn her friends, promising It'll only take a minute, really, or trying to usher me into the cliched I-have-a-project-to-do excuse.
Internet is someone you want by your side at all times. Internet hates me.
I feel like I haven't blogged in ages so here it is, my worries and wondries:
1. Saturday: Great time with Kyra at La Tazza.
2. Monday: Funny call with McMeanie, whom I promised the return of her bikini
3. Tuesday: Spent the entire day trying to round up some apostles and spread my new religion. (Just kidding.) But I was telling everyone about the thing (which I pretty much ripped off of Reincarnation but hush hush) and all I got were nervous giggles, blank looks, or what-the-fuck faces.
4. I'm actually a bit worried about the Finals now that everyone's talking about them. Balls.
5. British people say the durnest things. Sometimes, though, Cockney accents annoy me. And reminds me of class-D sherry.
6. I wish I could talk/write like those amazing people I am so utterly jealous of. Time to be a sponge and absorb!
7. I wish I could really, really, really understand Dickens, whom I love dearly despite never even meeting him. His sentences are a slap on the face to those meanie teachers who told me people who use runon sentence galore will suck at life. It's a double-slap to those who have bad vocab (like me) and can't understand every other sentence.

I'm reading Lolita now, about a nymphet and an infatuated Frenchman. God, I love these twisted sort of stories. Now all I need is $40 bucks to buy a 30-page novella and my week will be set.

My assumed blog feels more like a Twitter Tweet/an online notepad than an actual blog these days.
I watched Wanted yesterday/this morning. It reminded me of a sub par Fight Club with guns and exaggerated special effects (but pleasant cinemontography).
Withnail & I has made it to my top movies lists. Recommended.
Still Crazy is also pretty decent. Also recommended.
There's this one guy in Still Crazy who
(Both are avaliable on Youtube)
I still want to watch The Story of Adele H.
Upcoming movies: Heathers, Just Let Them Chirp A While, The Last Kiss, How to Get Ahead in Advertising, Run Lola Run, Memento, The Girl in the Cafe
Upcoming books: The Peculiar Memories of Thomas Penman, Dry: A Memoir, Lolita, Frankenstein, Lolita, Notre-Dame de Paris, Invisible Monsters

Watching Still Crazy.
I'm becoming a giant Bruce Robinson junkie.

I want to watch The Story of Adele H.
Thee Victor Hugo's daughter, directed by thee François Truffaut, complete with thee Isabelle Adjani and thee Bruce Robinson. What's not to love?

Mr. Sir knows exactly how to make me feel like complete and utter crap.

I'm in love with someone in the past.
Balls.
I. Am. Going. Insane.
Fuck. It.

Rumor has it that there'll be an earthquake at 9. Six more minutes. The anticipation is shaking me. We'll see.

Some people write the most amazing short stories. I'm oozing with a custard-like jealousy. Seeth seeth, munch munch. Swallow, smile.

Movie mania.
Closer, Towelhead, My Blueberry Nights, Garden State, Shanghai Kiss, Superbad, Puccini For Beginners, Across the Universe, Fight Club

Upcoming:
Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Capote, Withnail and I, 500 Days of Summer, Paper Heart, Just Let Them Chirp Awhile, In Search of a Midnight Kiss.

La Tazza Cafe, Downtown Covina.

Paranoia

Thank you Yelp, for making me a food-obsessed, wannabe-connoisseur. Now I only need a car and a Rachel-Ray-like TV show to make my dreams come true.
This summer, I'm going to go on a cafe/bakery/sandwich shop expedition.

I've been extremely paranoid these days. I really just don't why.
Someone, anyone, please just assure me that the world's not going to end in 2012 and I'll be better. For a little while.
Fucking Internet and Youtube commenters.

"Praying for love and paying in love."
God. I love that. Bless you Ryan Ross and illegal strip joints.
Today was surprisingly good day.
My Blueberry Nights: B-plus. Nora Jones, you have a great voice. Why don't you just stick to singing, please. Wonderful cinematography. Everything else: wonderful.
http://
Now my upcoming want-to-watch movies are:
Paper Heart. Charlyn Yi and Micheal Cera. Bless them. Bless mockumentaries. A girl searching for love, and finding affection in an adorably dorky goober. How cute.
http://

500 Days of Summer: Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel. I loved them in Maniac. I hope I'll love them again. A hopeless romantic retells his 500 days with a girl that doesn't believe in love. The trailer reminds me of Garden State.
http://

Yet another new old flame

Remember Star Wars? Well, I'm not sure if it's because I just visited George Lucas's old school (USC for those who have been living under a sidewalk) but I'm in love with Star Wars again.

Cartoon Network has a new Attack of the Clones 3-D-ish cartoon things, and fucking hell! I'm addicted to it. Seriously. I don't know if it's because I was half-asleep with medication when I was watching it or what, but I find the cartoon Anakin hotter than Hayden Christenson. I have officially become insane. He loves Padme, but it's all good, because the cartoon Padme is modelled off of Natalie Portman, and everyone knows how much I like Natalie Portman. And Anakin's Padawan, Ahsoka? Wonderful. But, hey, it's not brain-heroin like Family Guy. I'm actually learn a lot about politics and senators and wars. But, in actuality, a beautiful, young senator and hotheaded, rash general falling in love? That's what I love about it.

Wow. This blog just proves how much of a geek I am. But I am sick so I am allowed eccentricities. 　

CSTs/STARs/whatever-name-you-want-to-give-them are right around the corner and I haven't even begun studying. May the Lord save my condemned soul. (I think I've been hanging around too many Catholics lately.)
I just made this crazy shocking discover and my mind is still ablur because of it.
And I made the terribly stupid mistake of eating two-year-old chocolate and right now I can only hope that nothing that bears any resemblance to that erupts from my mouth. (Wouldn't that be like taking a CRAP out of you're mouth? Scary thought.)
Carmina's [ex]idol band is about to cross into the mainstream, or so says Wikipedia. Their new album already sounds more MTV-friendly.
People are talking about Warp Tour. I really doubt I'll go (what's the difference between slim & fat chances? Aren't those total antonyms? Those Americans) but it's [sort of] fun listening to them. Typing about Meg and Dia, they're for sure performing. Who else I wonder?
I've been thinking too much about unimportant things. I'm such an emotional vampire.
Time to go turn on the lawn sprinklers.

Today, I woke up reeally early after a super-crazy dream and suddenly realized I haven't even been to blogger in weeks. Good old nostalgia. God, I love that word.
Twitter mania has been sweeping the nation. Seriously, I don't really see the superduperness in it. But that's just me and my prehistoric technology. I'm still using floppy disks. I really am a dinosaur.
I watched some good movies yesterday: Superbad, which wasn't super-bad, Moving McAllister which had nice music from the Format, and Puccini for Beginners, which was as good as a movie about bisexual love triangles could get.
On other news, I'm conforming to the saying, "Everyone in New York is writing a musical, everyone in LA is either acting or writing a book, everyone in San Fran is protesting about gay marriage, and everyone in Las Vegas--? Well, their just trying not to get arrested." To get ready I'm even listening to movie-soundtrack-esque music (i.e. The Rocket Summer. Every time I listen to "Do You Feel" I can see some kid running after a station wagon. Just me, though.)
I should be out socializing. But I've been [unsurprisingly] dead. Let's bring out the pills.

No one likes to rent. Who would? We're Americans which generally means we enjoy owning our own things so we can abuse them all we want and no one can yell at us or we can just chuck a shoe at them and yammer about freedom or whatnot. Just kidding. Anyway, I feel like somehow in the past my former body died but my spirit was too sinned to be accepted anywhere, so it spent 3467846 years wandering aimlessly around until they found a new body to rent. Sadly, this body is one of those archetypal cutthroat-bitch landladies who probably lives on homemade crack and is as judgemental as the guy who decides whether you get in to Heaven or Hell.
Some punk-goes-pop covers just aren't meant to be. Period.
I've been shot by Mother Nature. Help, I'm bleeding like a slit pig.
The Body has been terrorizing people the entire day. What did I do in my past life?
Spring is here, only it's still fucking ice cold. Spring has just got to be the lustiest season ever. Fresh flowers, birds chirping, girls are wearing skirts again...ahh. But autumn is the most romantic season, with all those pretty leaves and flannel scares and mugs of hot tea. Summer is probably the most lonely, unless you're older than fourteen and can drive or if you're willing to walk a lot. Winter is where people wiggle their hands and go "Ehh..." It just depends how much in "love" you are.
I should be doing homework.

"Dear Carmel, flowers or rocks?" --"Rocks. In a heartbeat"

Today wasn't the most sensationalist day ever.
Remember those movies with the just-nerdy-enough-to-be-funny character and all the shit that happens to him in one go? Yes, I'm sure we all watched one of those and because we are callow people, we laughed. Well, I now sympathize with him.
School started off on a nice note and for an entire period I actually believe that today might be another good day. Let's just say, I should've realized that having a school-at-war-feud dream might suggest that today wasn't going to be a pretty day.
Like that wasn't enough, I came home and was rounded up by my little cousin, had my phone stolen from me (I'm not sure who Crystal called--I'm hoping it wasn't a long-distance call), and received this following email from Interact:
Carmel
you got too many strikes Chinese New Year Fest 2/1, Newspaper Distr. 2/19, Vejar TA 3/4
the directions were clear on the chinese new years fest, i asked the presidents
you are no longer in the club, sorry. feel free to join next year.

Cheers. At first I was completely bitching and moaning about it ($10 dollars happens to be enough to buy a vaccination or two, people) and I even contemplated whether I should send him a rude email back. But, using the Internet to abuse someone? That's lame, even for me. So now I will just sulk. Thing is, I don't even think I signed up for Newspaper Distribution. I guess it's my fault really, and my leader is just carrying out his duty. Still, I think I'm going to do Key Club next year. I really am the lesser person.
Kyra and I got into a really elaborate talk about everything and we realized: there's a thin crater between caring and loving. I'm sure most people already understand that concept, but a lot of people don't really get it. I'm not making any sense, am I? Well, in a nutshell, care and love are like slightly different twins people often confuse. What would you rather? Be cared for or loved? The answer may seem so obvious, but if you really think most people would really have to weigh it.
Thought: Flowers or Rocks?

mercutio and alice

Sizzling day today. I felt like I was in Tennessee.
A plastic factory burned down today. A fluke or a mad dash for insurance? Heh.

New fetishes: Mint dental floss, organic apples, seaweed, and OJ.

Well, I went over to Carmina's house today because our sophies have to go take a CST test and even though I gave her attitude on the phone, she was still kind enough to make me sunny-side eggs and toasted bread. Good times.
Anyway, make way Peter Pan because you have a new competitor: Mercutio. Yes, the "louche aristo who can’t take anything seriously". Carmina doesn't understand why on earth I like him because apparently he's a "jerk" and someone actually said, "Did you get Mercutio and Benvolio mixed up?" No, I didn't. I love Benvolio to death (ahaha---he was the only one that didn't die) but I absolutely adore Mercutio.
According to SparkNotes, "Mercutio overflows with imagination, wit, and, at times, a strange, biting satire and brooding fervor. Mercutio loves wordplay, especially sexual double ententres. He can be quite hotheaded, and hates people who are affected, pretentious, or obsessed with the latest fashions. He finds Romeo’s romanticized ideas about love tiresome, and tries to convince Romeo to view love as a simple matter of sexual appetite." Enough said. If only they found that cute actor I saw in that R&J to play Mercutio in the movie...
It's times like these where I really wish I was in drama and got to spend an hour analysing double ententres and reading Julius Caesar. And, get this, drama's doing a production of Alice and the Wonderland! Good Lord, I love that movie/book! It's so marijuana-induced I'm surprised Disney even picked it up for production. I adore the Hookah Caterpillar and the Mad Hatter. Though to me Alice is pretty much a flat character used mainly to be the eyes and ears of the reader. I just hope my dream Alice will be Alice. I've got money on her.

Block tomorrow: No English or French or SRC, but fucking Geo and PE and World Hist. Fuck it. I'm going to find a route to Neverneverland.

Fucking hell.
I didn't think it was possible for Mr. Jo to get loonier than he already is.
He took "fucked-up" to the whole next level.

We need to compose a little song for the freaking Cold War. WTF? Lyrics to a Russian attack? What the hell am I supposed to do? Sing "Soviets built a wall and started the iron curtain" to Karma Police? Jeezzz. I should really take the whole musicians approach: Lock myself up in a cabin, light a bunch of incense, listen to some stoner music, and take about 2837247 hits from a bong. If it worked for John Lennon, it'll hopefully work for me. Eessh.

On other news: I have become a South Park junkie once more. If polygamy and pedophilia were allowed, I'd have married Stan, Kenny, Craig, Tweek, and Kyle (and Peter Pan) by now. Heh.
Other, other news: My little cousin has learned to barter. Dear Lord, I'm not sure if I should be thrilled or worried.
Other, other, other news: Ever since freaking SRC, I've become deathly paranoid (and fascinated) in tobacco. I've always been well...perplexed with cigarettes (cigars, too, more-or-less) but I really doubt I would ever, ever smoke. Those over-the-top videos (parodies of The Rocky Horror Picture Show) are absolutely disgusting. I had to see a chin get amputated. I thought the bag of chips I had for lunch were going to make an Indiana Jones-esque out of my stomach. It just makes me sad (and grossed out) to see these wonderfully talented young people chug tar into their lungs. If this was the old Carmel typing I'd say "What a shame" but the new Carmel thought about it and she agrees that "What a shame" seems like a terrible thing to say. (Just say it out loud to yourself: "What a shame" If you're an alcoholic, sure you may not have many friends and sure you might harm you're health, but at least your liver won't hack up leftover chunks from Highway 66. (Just kidding--I'm not a big groupie for alcholics either, though I'm sure most people wouldn't say no to a shot of green apple Smirnoff's).[insert beady look]
That's just me, though.

Is it me that makes you sweat?

I feel like my middle school obsession has been coming back..
I love how the basses actually gets to play a bit of the melody
In celebration for me&Carmina becoming orchestra nerds again! Yip yip! Only this time we'll be in the same orchestra.



by the way; 1:08. Call me creepy or whatever, but I happened to notice that old picture (It's my favorite part of the song--sheesh.) Anyway, it's those transformations that gives sad sacks like me hope. Not to mention Chris Brander's total transformation in Just Friends. Ha. I just sometime hate how people who make these video put such promiscuous pictures. I remember once, I was listening to like But It's Better If You Do Strings and there was this picture of like Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie kissing and my Internet had to freeze on me. My mom just so happened to walk by and she was so "WTF?" and wouldn't let me watch Brokeback Moutain, in fear her youngest daughter becomes a fag hag. My mom's a bit homophobic--isn't everyone from the 70's-90's? (Funny thing is that those were the metrosexual days. The irony.) So yes.

blog 101

I feel like I haven't blogged in ages. Nevermind. I'm not in the mood for blogging so I'll just list out a bunch of (censored) stream-of-conscious things about this weekend

I think I need some Ritalin and Fluxotine asap.
Someone--whose name I won't mention--made me feel like the poster-child of hypocrisy. Like I already didn't know that.
People are being assholes.
I'm so lethargic.
Movie Madness: Rachel Getting Married, Thank You For Smoking, Just Friends.
South Park.
Lent.
Panic at the Disco with Carmina.
Panicking in general.
Weird ADD.
Weirder OCD spurts (doesn't go good with ADD)
Self-made mac & pasta sauce. Yum, yum.
Caramel corn, Hi-Chews, Arizona green tea.
Bipolar disorders.
Behavior Centers.
Crazy dream with Natalee, JAC, and Maddie in some crazy mall. Lots of rainbows.
Rob Lowe and Ryan Reynolds.
Anxiety disorders.
Bad yoga and backaches.
String Bass and ukulele.
Paranoia.
Fear of thinking of sinful thoughts.
Social anxiety.
Addictions
Germs
MILFs
Emails
Bendy straws
Baby fat and scarred stomachs
Lost my (already) minimal tolerance for spiciness and everything else.
Fucking Girl Scout Cookie season. Diabetes in a box.
Bipolar weight. Lost four pounds, gained five, lost six, gained seven. Is this some crazy scientific problem? Either way, I gained weight.
Cold hands and even colder feet.
Squinty Eyes.
Two-Face and Swing Kids.
"Let get these teen hearts beating faster, faster."
Fishtanks and the 50's.
Sadomasochism.
Smiley Face and Anna Faris.
Bad Spelling.
Epedophilia, pedophilia, necrophilia
Coffee Date, Coffee and Cigarettes
The Graduate
Note on a Scandal and The Hours and The End of the Affair
Virginia Wolf and Mrs. Dalloway
Cobra Starship and spandex and gourmet cooking
Casablanca and Brandy Alexanders.
A Pyromaniac's Love Story
Computer classes and technology
Girl Uninterrupted
Selfish, Swedish Fish, Fishing for compliments, Fish in the Sea
Silver lining
CRAP, diarrhea, shit
Judas and Jesus
The Academy Awards, The Academy Is, Hawthorne Heights, Cartel
Overused phrases
Guilt by Association
Stupidity
Adam Brody, Robert Downey Jr.
Ronnie Radke, Blaine Harrison, The Butcher
Guy Ripley, guys from Panic, Sodapop
Lack of Creativity
Uptown Girl
Mystery Jets
Department stores
Chick-fil-A
Stripping and catching Brendon Urie dead
Ryan Ross being sick, weak, flamboyantly gay, and pathetic
Pete Wentz acting like a fucking ape and Patrick Stump realizing he was born to be fat and bald
Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick
Big noses and pillow-lips
Anorexia and binge eating
Sonny with a Chance, Scrubs, and The United States of Tara
Honeymoon to Darfur
Chowder, Misadventures of Flapjack, Spongebob, Powerpuff Girls, Dexter's Lab, 6teen, TDI
Israel and Italy
Waking up next to a dolphin
Trapped in an puke-filled elevator
The old Romeo and Juliet without freaking Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes
Alice and the Wonderland
Hookah and weed
Superbad and Sexdrive
Panic attacks
Fatigue
Hearts made of wax
Greek myths and Roman stories
Irregular pulses
Turning over a new leaf

Whew...long list. This was fun only now my mind's as garbled as Hannah Montana's voice.

good stuff

It's music like this that'll help me find the inner Zen in me. And, anyway, I love the video. Who can resist spanky stop-motion mixed with twinkly music?

stupid blog

I fucking hate blogspot. I wrote this super-duper long blog and it freaking deleted it. My first day back online and I'm already being protested against by my own blog. Wonderful.

It's not our fault we're so judgemental; we were taught to label

My titles are becoming more and more Fall Out Boy-esque. Take that Pete Wentz.

Big news: Yesterday I had my first date! And if decided to pull a Brandy Alexander, then I would've had excellent practice. I babbling about how it the Souplantantation dinner date would come in handy in the future, when someone reminded me that in future dates (if there are going to be future ones) I would be the woman in the relationship. Thus I added: unless I dated a Eric Foreman type of guy (which would be kind of funny, I admit). But yes. Souplantation. There's a reason buffets love to have me as a customer: I have a bipolar appetite. So I spent the dinner eating cornbread (my new food fetish) and drinking my weight with a fantastic concoction I have baptized Aphrodite-Cupid (in honor of Valentines) Not the most creative name, but whatever.
cherry green tea + Sprite + a whoosh of lemonade + a pinch of apple juice + a drizzle of honey + a squirt of lemon = Aphrodite-Cupid! (hmm...it sounds a bit incestish doesn't it? Oh well; it's the GREEKS. It was all about incest and brother-sister marriages. But that's why I love those myths so much!)

I don't like Valentines. I think it's overrated. (But don't I think every holiday is overrated?) The only thing I like about that overrated holiday is the free candy but this year no one likes me and I didn't get ONE freaking piece of chocolate. Not even a synthetic powder Sweetheart thing. Yeh. Anyway, I think that Valentine day is the most untrustworthy day ever. I swear, you can walk down the street and you'll hear a galore of lies spilled from forked tongues. "I love you" "You're my one and only". Lies. Well, for the most part. But, hey, I'm just cynical.

So yesterday Carlos, Anntoine, Stephano, and Carmelo went to the movies (He's Just Not That Into You), saw two Hispanics fight over a not-even-half-decent girl, and were threatened by a Korean gangster. I narrowed them down into Sex and the City people:

Carlos [Ms. Carmina Rhea "I'm too good of a friend" Portea]: Samantha Jones
Anntoine [Ms. Ann Zhao Lei]: Charlotte York
Stephano [Ms. Stephany "The Boss" Yong]: Carrie Bradshaw
Carmelo [moiiii!]: Miranda Hobbes (one-sided and just because she was the only one left.)

Old habits die hard

Well, that's so true. Circa two years ago, I gave myself yet another bad haircut. Yes. Remember the seventh-grade fiasco? Well, this is the ninth-grade fiasco, only not as bad because I don't have a hair stub shooting from my forehead. So I had just finished showering, when my overgrown bangs were pissing the hell out of me as usual. Blame the hot fumes or something, but I just grabbed a pair of blunt scissors and started hacking away. Well. Let's just say I'll never become a beautician. And my fucking bangs are still in my eyes! Oi! I just want to shave my head sometimes. The world would be so much happier if people didn't have hair to worry about. Not just hair-on-your-head hair. EVERY type of hair. Ugh. I'm so disgusted. I wish I didn't have such a minuscule forehead. No joke. I have the TINIEST forehead known to humanity. (I'm being very vain--but I'm fourteen, and I've already been cursed with Mother Nature--I am [almost] a lady.) I'm so sad....and blind. Time to cue the waterworks and blues.

Quote of the Day: We'd all like to make that great escape. Problem is, there's no where to escape to.

Don't you love my super long, windy quote title? I feel like freaking Panic at the Disco/Fall Out Boy.

[Un]Productive day today. koreanbeef/chickenthing,mushroomtofupotthatwasn'tspicy,coke,caesarsalad,vanillacupcakes,hotcheetospuffs,potatoes,cornonthecob,carrots,blackberries,icecream,frozendaiquris,chocolate,meltedicecoffeefrommcd's,kettlechips. Whew. What a feast. It'll take me two weeks of actual PE to get rid of all that junk. It seems like whenever I "run" I get freaking I'll Run stuck in my head. And that's not exactly the best song to pump your adrenaline too (but all you modern day Peter Gabriels will love that puppydog, how-to-woo-that-girl song). I get sad everytime I hear it (way to pick up the pace--with tears) and I always think of my [sometimes]best friend. Hope you're happy Mina--you're always on my mind during PE, one notch below cramps and two below pain, though. But third's the charm. Anyway I found the perfect song my future [hookah] hippie club will listen to during our...sessions. Manana. By...I forgot, but probably a bunch of pro-MJ adolescents who got baked in a beachouse and decided to record something.

Some people have so much gall I want to turn Lestat de Lioncourt on them and rip their fucking necks off. Or maybe that's too much.

I can never hold grudges. I tried today because I was [extremely] mad at my grannie and mom. So I decided to shun them. I got up to three hours. But then I started getting these weird, paranoid thoughts. And the rain and their random trip to the supermarket (again!) didn't help. And stupid SRC and you-should-apologize-while-you-still-have-a-chance.

Mm Prades [to Mom, in a sympathetic tone]: Dear mother, I am no longer infuriated by your irrational slander.
Mom [almost hysterical]: What did I do? I did nothing but slave over chores and you won't even blahblahblah
Mm Prades [to grandma]: Dearest grandma, because you are my elder and you're blood runs in my bloated veins,I forgive you for your horrendous gossiping.
Grandma: Blink, blink. You were mad at me?

Impossible.

Kyra is wonderful. I felt like including her here because she gave me a wonderful idea, which therefore makes her wonderful. Dear Kyra, if you are reading this you are the hoop to my hula. Ahahah.JK.

I need to change my song but my obvious lack of technology common sense won't let me. Help? Anyone? Where's Techna when you need her?

I'd love to stay an continue typing, but I really don't care anymore. And I forgot what I wanted to vent anyway. Ugh. I hate it when that happens. Stupid music.

Question: What ever happened to good ole' The Academy Is...? W.B used to have such a velvety voice--it was their trademark. And now? They sound like The Morning Light-meets-Relient K-and-some-other-band. What happened to the velvet?!

Eeeshhhhhh....our unofficial fridge is ghastly. It used to smell like lemons but someone put some fish or something in it and let it rot....eesssh. What's worse? This computer is within a three feet radius of it. If only I can get my cousin to stop opening it every ten seconds. Because I really just adore the smell of dead flesh. And parsnips so old it's practically embedded into the plastic bag. Yes. It's like going to a French bakery, our unofficial refrigerator.
Jeez. What's wrong with me today?


Actually signing off this time.......Madame Monday L. P. U. Prades. (the first and hopefully last and only)

Listening to the music I listened to in my "youth". In short, I've been listening to Mina's playlist which she never bothers to update anymore. Ech-hem. Wow. I don't know if it was because it's hunting season down south, or what, but that just unleashed the waterworks. As if we need anymore water after today's Singing In The Rain-esque shower. Anyway, I think I might've caught a chill while I was on my play date with good ole' Mother Nature.
Good:
We ended up watching the Princess Bride in English. Ahh..such a cute movie. Though, because it is Ms. White afterall, we have to jot down stupid archetypes. Heh.
We're watching a half cute half stupid film in French, with lots of cursing and stupid kids pretending to be old.
I had Honey Twist Fritos.
The rain is my friendnemie
The guy that sits in front/in cross of me in SRC is pretty nice.
Because it was Friday I got to be lazy
Bad:
The rain made me really, really wet and got my feet cold
I embarrassed myself badly while trying to make small talk
I almost conked out during my World History test (AGAIN! I think I may have a weird disease, where a person falls asleep during tests)
Stupid people got me thinking about the future. Shudder.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wegOJS02znY
Stupid Warner Bros or whatever disabled embedding. Anyway if there's anyone out there that loves me, here is today's present to thee. It/the guy reminds me of Robinson Crusoe or something. I love how he almost burned his hand. Ahaha.
Call me hypocritical, but I feel like new music just isn't as good as old music. That's just my opinion. Eesh.

Oh. And, in case you haven't noticed, I've been exxxxtremely bored. That's why this blog is soooo long. But sadly I must part.
Cheers.

Greek myths and Asian chips that's giving me a headache....delicious.

I think I'm going through another midlife crisis. At this rate, my actually midlife crisis will probably be something along the edges of mental asylum and/or death. Super.

Person 1: Wow, I don't like this movie. I hate those pousers on those motorcycles and those girls who pretend they don't care but are absolutely squealing---man I want to...stab them with a pen or something.
Person 2: I like it.
Person 1 [hand slapped to his/her heart in mockhorror]: What?! You actually like this?
Person 2 [condensendingly, like a fifth-grade teacher lecturing slowly because she thinks you're too stupid to understand]: Everyone has their different opinions, you know, and I think that you are being to judgemental and blahblahblahblah.
People these days. They all want to prove someone wrong. If these sermons don't stop I think I'll just bring earplugs and stop listening to people alltogether.

Yeh. And I spilled a whole bottle of water inside my backpack today. I left my ruined books outside to dry but I forgot to bring them back in until...late. The sprinklers got them. Fantastic.

School is going by so dreadfully slow I've actually managed to fall asleep during two tests. Impossible. I blame my long, lackluster (but oddly introvertive) weekend. The world just doesn't seem the same anymore.
Double maths first thing in the morning isn't my idea of fun; reading about ancient Greeks having sex and getting drunk around the place is.
And, and. In that Nicholas&Alexandria movie---the transvestite man is soo cute. I'd marry him. We'd have a strange life together. It's him or Peter Pan at the moment. (Crossing my fingers over Petey) Lovely, aren't I? Wanting to marry a man that's probably dead and a fictional boy that never wants to grow up.
Why is it that I always get scolded for being too harsh and/or judgemental but no one else is? I'll start a hippie club. We'll just all sit in a circle, take turns with the hookah, and be dreamy and lazy. Hopefully, Mr. Principal will be in a good mood when I ask. Then I'll be back in business.

Two words: Razia's Musical. If anyone feels like getting me a belated birthday/Christmas present, here's a hint. Razia's Musical: best CD produced by Fueled by Ramen.Ever. Thee best. Listen. Love. That's what Mina and I have been doing for the past hour.

Chinese proverbs are so depressing. On other news, I'm planning my great escape. It should take about, oh I don't know, maybe ten years to happen.

Well, my family has done it again. Circa Christmas, they have tried (in vain) to make it seem like we are a happy bunch of normal people enjoying terrible food. Well, in reality the only thing true about the statement is the terrible food part; I'm regretting the fact that I even tried the suspicious looking plate of god-knows-what. Anyway, they have decided that treating me like another chair isn't enough and some very kind person had the brilliant thought of looting around my things and tossing what they supposed wasn't important away. Yes. I know that painting was crummy. But I spent time on it. It was one of the rare moments where I felt joy in doing something. And now it's probably crumbled into a ball in a garbage truck, waiting to be vomited into yet another land find. Wonderful. Happy pre-Chinese New Year.

There's a Powerpuff Girl marathon! Yipee!

Well, I finally got The Perks of Being a Wallflower. And yes. It was amazing. Now I'm starting Shampoo Planet.

covers

Listening to covers and getting very fat off of truffles. I find it a bit sad when covers sound better than the real song itself. What really sucks is when someone takes an old song that wasn't a hit back then, powder and polish it up a bit, and then once it becomes a Top 40, they claim credit. I don't know that's just me....anyway...I found some covers that people might like. And I found this survey in which you dedicate covers to people. So I will make some announcements.
CARMINA RHEA PORTEAAA: BLEEDING LOVE---covered by THEE Mystery Jets. listen. love. cry. (just kidding about the crying part)
ANN ZHAO LEI: FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT---covered by Kate Nash. listen, smile, giggle,rewind and repeat.
KYRAA YONG: VALERIE---covered by both Amy Winehouse and Panic at the Disco. Don't really know why. I think you might like the Zuton's actually version better.
[insert name here]: LOVE STONED---covered byThe Hoosiers. This is how you act sometimes. Which isn't a good thing.
STUPIDboy: MERCY---covered by The Fratellis. Please man up a little bit
someonethatmakesmesad: FOUNDATIONS---covered by Newton Faulkner. This song pretty much hits most of the things you do. Except the puking on my trainers, and the relationship part.
blahblahblha: LOVE MACHINE---covered by Artic Monkeys. This is meant to be very sarcastic.
peoplewhopissmeoff: CRY ME A RIVER--covered by Lostprophets/Paolo Natini. If I didn't care the first time what makes you think I'll care after constant harrasing. I chose this purely for its title, in case you people were wondering. If you think I'm trying to get you guys back by making a sex tape with a Megan Fox look-a-like, you people have been sniffing some serious paint fumes.
pastpeople: WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG---Biffy Clyro. The world seemed nicers when we were young.
laurasun: KIDS---covered by The Kooks. Because I heard this cover at your house. :]

Lust or the obession of finding something weirded than yourself?

I'm in love.Now, before you funny fishes jump to conclusions, it's not about a boy...or a girl, that is. I'm in love with the Mystery Jets. Carmina has had the misfortune to have a friend like moi. But, yes. Oddly enough, I find the lead singer...dare I say attractive. That's not the problem, except he's not exactly the prettiest petunia around town and he has some spinal condition. He's always carrying these crutches around...which I find oddly wonderful.... There's something terribly, terribly wrong with me. But, weird thing is, I found them because I thought I heard them in a dream and when I showed Mina the song, she also said she heard them in her dream...freaky, no? Anyway, I've been rereading Harry Potter...and holy balls, I think I have a mild infatuation with the...Draco Malfoy! (too bad he's a blond) I'm developing a love for British gimps (that was a bit mean) and fictional wizard characters?! Dear Lord, save me!!!!

Anyway...off to Mina's in two minutes! Yippeeee!

Still don't feel up for it. Fuck. I did something to my foot and now it's numb and hurts like crazy. :[

ritalin. asap.

I am such a stupid person. I should stop criticising people so much, because no matter how fucking oblivious they can be, I am much, much more stupid. I forgot about the finals. No. Seriously. I was just flipping through channels like I usually do and then my sister goes, "Can you quiz me." I, being the complete brick I am, just continued watching Oswald tralalala his way over to Daisy's. My sister got a bit huffy with me and asked, "Look, if you're not bothering to study for the finals, at least quiz me!" And, whoa, I just leap up like a sardine out of the sea. But the problem is...I just can't seem to buckle down! This is a really bad time for my ADD/undiscovered terminal illness to kick in. Holy balls, I'm pathetic.

Listening to "stoner" music, eating raw tofu, and contemplating whether I should be studying or not. Today was one of those days that's as jumbled as the government right now. It started really nicely with a wonderful dream I sadly can't really remember...I think it took place at a crappy buffet and a sushi bar or something. Anyway, during lunch, I got Ruffles using Britney's money, a sunburn on the back of my neck, more pissed than a bucketful of pee, and a bunch of other mixed up emotions relating to the bathroom somehow. Mr. Jo said I reminded his of Sam from iCarly today. I don't see how--she's practically dedicated to meat and chili. She sticks things into her ears. She spits. She goes over the top more than once. She gets in trouble daily and breaks things open with a hammer she keeps in her locker. Any resemblance? Not that I know of. On the other news, finals are coming up. Shit. I don't think I cracked open my English portfolio once. I'm doomed. Del Paso, here I come. Let's just hope my insurance can cover the hospital bills.
Deds:
1. Thanks for showing me Broadcast 2000. I'm in love. But, for such a small album, their EP is like $20 or something.
2. I would like to say some very nasty things to you. But then you'll probably gather up forces and start a mob. Next thing you know, I'll be out of the country, working at a gas station in Mexico as a girl named Nellie.
3. Fucking bitches. All of you.
4. Hope you did well on your test.
5. Relax. Take a breather.
6. I'd like to call it young love. But I can't.

My dad is leaving for Chinkytown. Bon voyage.

I CANT SLEEP

FUCKING HELL! I can't sleep. And lack of sleep always makes me become a bigger goober than I already am. Right now I really paranoid that my dad will rush in, flip off the power switch, and club me to death with a lamp. I have the strange urge to read a novella about a gay guy, a heterosexual pretending to be homosexual, a drag queen, and a transgender bartender. Holy balls, save me. I should get going cause my keyboard makes loud sounds and, hot damn, I have to piss.

It's funny how much a piece of paper can hurt you

Literally and figuratively. I just looked at my hands and realized I got like four paper cuts today. And two are on my joint. And the space surrounding my fingers are so chafed it's actually started to bleed. I am a little emo child....just kidding. Anyway, while I was self-pitying my ruined hands, I just thought about all those shows where people decide to commit suicide because they lost all their money or some girl dumped them with a note or they discovered something terrible while fishing through the trash. Yeh. Paper is so destructive. But I love it anyway.
On the other side of Carmeland, our Christmas tree is still up. No, it's not because my family loves Christmas to death (ahaha. isn't Christmas the birth of Christ?) and can't stand to take it down, but it's because no one wants to bother. Last minute New Year work. No one has the time to water it either, so you can't walk past the area barefoot or else you'll get a lovely organic tattoo of pine needles. I was going to put up Deds but I feel lazy all of a sudden. I've already been toying with this blog for an hour. So it's off to the Bee Gees, ice cream, and Apathy! Oh, on the other hand, I HAVE MUSIC CHOICE! For once, cable didn't fuck this up! Only bad thing: i never know which band they're planning to play. Oh well, as long as I can listen to Frank Sinatra and A-ha on TV, then I'm content.

I would just like to say...

school sucks like crazy. The classes are so boring I feel like slitting my wrists just to create some zing. A bit drastic, I suppose, but I'm not exactly the known as a clear-thinker. And next week, what do we have to look forward to? Finals. Joy. On the brighter side of Acaiberry Hill, the week has been of to a good start, though as boring as hell. So I guess I should count the buttercup blessings being brought by brighter butterflies. [Just felt like throwing in an alliteration.]
Somehow, over the nocturnal winter break, I've rediscovered my old taste in music. New year...old interests? Out with the new and in with the old? Oxymoron? So it's pretty much goodbye Cabs&Cobras&Mainers&Mondays and helllooo Virgins&Polices&Vampires&Depeches. Funny how that works out.
Anyway, I've heard how much Twilight sucks. The only people that praised it were random Youtube commenters. I still have no idea how the hush sound have anything to do with bad acting and over dramatic albinos. But I'll admit: I enjoy reading Youtube comments. I love the way people react just when someone writes, "Ew! The lead singer is sooo ugly!" One day, when I'm feeling particular bitching, I'm going to start a Youtube account and leave "[insert name here] is such a disfigured man" comments just to start some commotions. :]
On that cheery note, I must go and finish some homework that was supposed to be turned in yesterday. And my lovely sister keeps complaining about me playing Culture Club. Aaaand my parent's old friend turned up from the airport and he might have prezzies for me! Yes, yes, you kids can talk about my greed behind my back
P.S. Because I'm feeling truthful I must get this tiny secret out: I don't think I'm that into The Secret Life of the American Teenager. It's okay..but if I had a choice between that and Batman(same time slot) I think I'll choose my good-friend Batty. Sorry Mina.