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13 January 2011 @ 01:23 pm
My dad passed away yesterday morning.
I'm still mostly in shock. How can he be dead? He wasn't dead two days ago. He hasn't been dead my whole life. How can he possibly decide to be dead now? I know that sounds crazy. But I still half expect him to drive up in his little blue car, blasting Madonna and asking me about school. We could go to New York City like we used to, chock these last two years all up to a bad dream.

I'm trying to picture him the way he was, back before he lost his hair and all that weight. I'm trying to remember his glasses, what he smelled like, what his uniform looked like, what it was like to hug him and not be afraid to break something. But then I realize that man is really gone. He's laying on a slab. A couple days from now he's gonna be lain out in a church, in his Yankees cap and jersey. He won't be calling anymore. He can't text me anymore. I should probably delete his number from my phone... but I can't. All those times I complained about visiting him over the weekend... I don't have to do that anymore either.

I feel like I'm gonna throw up.

Here's a video made for my dad by his boyfriend. The song's probably poorly chosen and the pictures aren't all that great, but I think it's sweet.

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Feeling: sicksick
Listening To: Katy Perry- Teenage Dream
 
 
05 January 2011 @ 09:29 pm

It's funny when somebody eloquently sums up something you've been struggling with internally for some time. For me, it came in the form of Julian Lennon, speaking about the death of his famous father. He said he felt like he'd lost him twice- once, as a young child, when he left the family in the midst of Beatlemania, and again, at age 17, when he was shot and killed.

"I have always felt cheated by my father's death. I was five when he left - and 17 when he was murdered. I was at the stage of my life when I was hoping to get to know him more."

I'm 16, and I know exactly what he means. My dad left me when I was six years old, and our relationship has always been distant and weird. So when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer nearly eight years later, I felt like he was deserting me all over again. I feel like it should hurt less, considering we were never close- but it kills me that we never will be. That he won't be at my high school graduation, or dance with me at my wedding. Even the occasional phone calls, usually less than three minutes and pretty one-sided... I'll miss those.

This is what's been eating up all my time lately, and making it impossible to bang out a couple measly sentences to update you guys. I wouldn't normally feel comfortable writing this, but I just had one of those moments, and I needed to put it into words. It's sickly comforting knowing that, at some point in time, someone has felt the exact kind of hurt that you do. You don't feel so alone.
 


 
 
Feeling: contemplativecontemplative
Listening To: Iron and Wine- The Trapeze Swinger
 
 
01 January 2011 @ 01:26 pm

I'm sitting here trying to convince an acquantance of mine that life is worth living.

It's pretty ironic, in a twisted sort of way. I am in no way certified to give any sort of life-changing advice. Have you SEEN my life lately? It's just holding on by a thread. I'm a seasoned professional in making poor choices, so what makes you think I can solve your problems? That's like Obama going to Bush for help running the country. I don't even know this kid, and he's still pouring his troubles onto me like I pour them onto you guys. It's funny, because he has no idea that what I'm going through is a thousand times more serious than his girl troubles and general teen angst. Will I tell him this, though? Nope. Because I'm sure his problems feel huge, and who am I to tell him they're not?

So, no. I'm just going to remain sitting here for as long as he needs me, making feeble jokes and trying to convince him that he's not a complete human failure. I don't know if I'm getting through to him, but you never know. A discussion very much like this one once saved my life. You never know.
 


 
 
Feeling: hopefulhopeful
Listening To: The Beatles- Sun King
 
 
30 December 2010 @ 01:40 pm

I've spent most of this week teetering on the edge of hell, and that's not just my teen angst talking. I believe anyone, regardless of mental stability or cheery disposition would agree that I've been through the ringer these last few days. Don't ask why, don't offer your blind condolences, just know that I have good reason why I haven't updated and why I won't be for a while (don't expect anything until at least the weekend). It's hard to put things into words without completely breaking down. Sorry.
 
Oh, and by the way, The Secret Life of Bees- awesome movie, even better book.


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Feeling: weirdweird
Listening To: The Weather Channel :3
 
 
27 December 2010 @ 09:05 pm

My four-year-old sister often has completely unprovoked hissy fits, and this time in particular was about how she doesn't want to grow up. Ever. "My advice to you?" her father/ my stepdad told her. "Stay a kid as long as you can."

I immediately wanted to call bull. Was it not you who had just recently been bitching at her to grow up, to learn to sing her alphabet, to stop leaving her toys everywhere? "You're starting school next year, don't be such a baby," you'll say. No wonder she doesn't want to grow up. She's 4, and she already realizes what it entails- more responsibility, more work, less fun. But that's inevitable. You've got to either submit to the expectations that come with time, or be deemed useless to society. You're destined to spend your days in your mom's basement, playing Halo and eating PB & J. Growing up is a narrow path, but it's really the only way out.

You know why drugs sell so big? Why we're willing to spend entire paychecks just to drown ourselves in tequila shots? We want that feeling again. That not-a-care-in-the-world feeling, reserved solely for little kids spinning around in swivel chairs or flying kites out on the beach. We want novelty. We want to see the world through new eyes again.

I'm barely sixteen, and I can already feel it slipping away.


P.S. Saw Easy A for the second time today (or first-and-a-half, considering the first time was mostly spent necking with my boyfriend in the movie theater), and I can say that it's easily one of my favorite new releases. I really liked the message, having spent a long time as a "presumed trollop". It addresses a lot of our hang-ups with sexuality AND is pretty funny. I guess not all comedies aimed at teen girls are completely superficial after all.

P.P.S. Things are decent with me and the boyfriend again. I think.

P.P.P.S. Doesn't matter though, because I plan on marrying my iPod.

P.P.P.P.S. The remote control helicopter broke. :(
 


 
 
Feeling: artisticartistic
Listening To: MGMT- Flash Delirium
 
 
 
26 December 2010 @ 03:52 pm
Crap.
I can't handle this.
 
 
Feeling: nauseatednauseated
 
 
26 December 2010 @ 11:55 am
For Christmas I got:
  • an iPod touch, a Deathly Hallows necklace, two pairs of Minnetonka moccasins, a Jeff Dunham Snuggie featuring Achmed, a Harry Potter: Film Wizardry book, a Yoda backpack, a remote control helicoptor, my favorite Butterfly Flowers perfume and lotions, some clothes, new art supplies, and spending money left over from the loan my mom took out to pay for my dad's funeral.
I also got:
  • ignored by my boyfriend.
Life is weird.
 
 
Feeling: crushedcrushed
Listening To: Sunset Rubdown- Us Ones In Between
 
 
24 December 2010 @ 08:25 am
You don't fucking get it.

You really don't comprehend what you're doing, do you? You have no idea who this girl is that you're trying to destroy. You just want to see blood. You want to feel big and powerful, to feel like the strong one for once. I get it. I think we all do, on some base level. And congratulations, it looks like you've succeeded. You've pulled apart all the long-cracked little pieces of me, already held together by nothing but glue and fragile hope. Are you happy? Is reopening the old scars of a healing person a big accomplishment for you? I bet you get some sort of vicious pleasure from this... but that's all it is. What else do you achieve? Are you hoping to see me cracked? Because you never will. I'm an expert in putting myself back together, at least temporarily.

All you've really done is provided a reminder that this world isn't as beautiful and kind a place as I'd like to believe. You want to feel good about yourself? Be a good person. It goes a long way.
 
 
Feeling: crappycrappy
Listening To: America- Sandman
 
 
22 December 2010 @ 05:47 pm
I really need to get some relevant hobbies.
Yesterday was spent watching A Very Potter Sequel and tie-dying every white item in the house (not just the shirts I'm going to give my boyfriend, but my kid sister's socks and the one conservative cardigan in my wardrobe). Today? Baking a crapload of cookies, a prolonged trip to ShopRite, and making Christmas cards. If I can get 15 minutes for myself I plan on reading my new copy of Psychology Today or Time Magazine's 100 Events That Changed the World. I am one weird-ass 16 year old.
Okay, well I've got to go pass out now, bye.

P.S. This is random, but are any of my friends on here Buddhist? C:
I've always identified as agnostic with some Pagan leanings here and there, but I've been reading a lot about Buddhism and I find it rather interesting. Any input? I'd love to hear from people who actually know where the hell they stand with their belief system, because I sure as heck don't.
 
 
Feeling: busybusy
Listening To: MCR (agaaaain)
 
 

"Annoying" has got to be one of the most abused adjectives in the entire English language. "Annoyance" isn't an actual emotion, but rather a reaction to something we find ourselves not particularly fond of. We can use it to describe people and situations that we would rather not be in our lives. But how sheltered an existence do we lead when we have the luxury of being simply "annoyed"? When there are people watching their entire families being murdered right before their very eyes, where do we get the audacity to just be "annoyed"? Can we just get over ourselves for 15 minutes and realize there are worse things than being mildly inconvenienced or irritated by everyday happenings?

Okay, I get it. I'm annoying, and a whore. I'm lazy, and my natural volume level is far above desirable. I know all this. But I don't appreciate my entire existence being simplified to something merely not to your tastes. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't exist simply to please you? I know full well I'm not perfect, and I'll be willing to bet anything that you're not either. But I accept that you're most likely a complex human being, with hopes and fears and insecurities just like myself. I might not agree with some of your actions, but who am I to judge?  Who are any of us? I don't know what you're going through, what you've been through to make you the way you are... and vice versa. I know you're not just a decoration in my own little life, here merely for my own viewing pleasure. I'd like if you'd extend the same courtesy to me.

If you're annoyed by me, I'm sorry. I've never intentionally tried to irritate anyone, and if you don't understand or agree with my ideals, then that's your choice. I can't say you're wrong, because that would be no different than the things you say to me, and then we'd be in this vicious cycle... and we wouldn't want that, would we?

So if you want to get your panties all in a twist over my actions, have fun. It's your life. Do with it what you will. I'll continue doing whatever the hell I want. But I will tell you this: if you find yourself offended by the cut of my shirts, or my work ethic, or the mere sound of my voice, your life must not be terribly interesting. Maybe you should do some reading about other cultures, or volunteer for actual people in need. Maybe you'll realize there's not much to be annoyed about in your life at all.
 


 
 
Feeling: weirdweird
Listening To: Fire Like This
 
 
 
20 December 2010 @ 04:25 pm

Don't they make uplifting feel-good films anymore?
I've been playing hookie from school for like a week (don't judge me, I technically have a family excuse) so naturally I've been watching a crapload of movies On Demand. Today alone I watched:
 

  • Charlie Saint Cloud- Obviously depressing, considering I was welling up during the COMMERCIAL.

  • The Last Song- Not only is there the horribly tragic aspect of watching Miley Cyrus pretend to act for an hour-and-a-half, but apparently it's not a love story at all, but a tribute to lung cancer. Wooo. No amount of hot guy will make up for the fact that the producers of this movie are OBVIOUSLY in cahoots with the fine people of Kleenex.

  • Remember Me- Screw you, little Twi-hards. We'll lure you in with RPattz and his emo brood, then BAM! We'll kill everybody, just for the hell of it, and call it a "shocking twist". I'd call it pretentious and sort of annoying, but I can't say I didn't enjoy all the dialogue and cultural references leading up to it. It could've been a good love story, if it were in fact actually a love story. -__-

In any case, I've used up enough tissues today to wipe out an entire rainforest. Maybe it's hormones, maybe it's just that the film industry has decided that misery is a new marketing technique. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I sprained a tearduct. 
Tags:
 
 
Feeling: pessimisticpessimistic
Listening To: Reading Rainbow- Wasting Time
 
 
I hate shopping. Of all sorts, really. As much as I frequent the mall and tend to spend many a weekday afternoon perusing the shelves of East Meets West and Spencers, I really HATE having to buy things. Christmas shopping is no exception.

In fact, it's probably worse, because there comes the added stress of having to buy things for OTHER PEOPLE. Gah, the pressure! What if they don't like what you got them, or already have one, or are deathly allergic or morally opposed or have an unexplained childhood phobia!? Then they'll have to sit there and fake a smile and pretend to like it, all the while making plans to discreetly return it for a full refund.

For Christmas I'm getting my 17-year-old modern-hippie boyfriend:
                          - A Led Zeppelin Poster
                          - A home-made tie-dye t-shirt, made by me C:
                          - Homemade cookies
And my parents are getting him a GameStop gift card.

I'm pretty much skeeving out right now. Guys have it so easy. Chocolate, flowers, jewelery... it's pretty much foolproof. But there's no cliche romantic gift to buy your boyfriend. What if he doesn't like the poster, or have room for it in his room? I wanted to get the Swan Song one, but they were out of stock so I had to buy the one with the zeppelin on it. And what if the shirt comes out bad? All he wears is tie-dye, he knows a good shirt from a shitty one. AND WHAT KIND OF COOKIES DO I MAKE?

Waaaaaah.

*brain explodes*
 
 
Feeling: nervousnervous
Listening To: Bikini- American Mourning
 
 
18 December 2010 @ 08:08 am
Yes, yes, I know. It's radical. Some might even say impossible. But I'm living proof that it can indeed be done.

It won't be easy. There will be withdrawal symptoms. You might start to shake or fantasize about checking Tumblr, just one time, PLEASE GOD, PLEASE. You might end up pegging your cell phone at the wall because the damn thing is taking too long to update e-mail. But eventually, you will find peace. You will finally pick up that book you've been meaning to read for six months and devour it all in one sitting. You'll do your physics homework for the first time in ages. You'll devote more time to sleep and personal hygiene. Maybe- *gasp!*- you'll even get off your ass and go hang out with friends.

Then, of course, you'll buy a new computer and go back to being the sheltered little recluse we all know and love.

P.S. Getting my hair dyed today! This probably isn't exciting for you guys, who have no idea what I look like, but it's a big thing for me. C: I just hope it ends up lighter than my boyfriend's, because couples with similar hair colors bother me. Seems too much like incest. I don't know, haha.
 
 
Feeling: groggygroggy
Listening To: Woodsman- Insects
 
 
17 December 2010 @ 07:12 pm
Yeah, my computer broked, sorry. Don't think I forgot about you. C:

I wish I had somthing meaningful to say after this long absence. I could bore you with tales of my birthday exploits, which included a very unvegitarian dinner at KFC, then going to a coffee shop with my boyfriend. I could tell you how after two weeks of getting fries thrown at me and people tripping me in the aisle, the panda fundraiser finally paid off. Or I could tell you about my mom buying me a dress for my terminally ill father's funeral. But I won't. Because I can't.

So instead I'm just gonna let you guys know that I'm still alive and kicking, and that I promise there will be some actual posts in the near future.

Peace.
 
 
Feeling: busybusy
Listening To: Danger Days: The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys
 
 
09 December 2010 @ 09:33 pm
First off, my apologies for being M.I.A. during this last week. We've been holding a fundraiser at my school to sponsor a giant panda for $150, and that's really consumed the entirety of my being lately. It may seem like a pretty dauntless task- half the girls at my school wear shoes that cost more than that- but apparently no one is willing to spare that extra cookie at lunch, even if it means another poor defenseless panda cub starves to death from bamboo deforestation. "Fuck pandas." "Pandas are gay." "They should hold a fundraiser for me."

Oh, okay. Sorry. For a moment there I mistook you for someone who actually gave a fuck about what happens in the world. Carry on with your quest for obesity.

I mean, I completely agree that there are more pressing issues out there than the pandas. What about the people starving to death every single day? What about the children that watch their parents killed right before their eyes in Darfur, or the girls who are sold into sex slavery when they're even younger than I am? Hell, what about the dumbing down of a nation? That's something the dickholes at my school should be very familiar with.

The thing that I cannot fathom, though, is this: someone puts a jar in front of you with the words "SAVE A LIFE" stamped across the front. They ask for spare change, a quarter, a dime... and you refuse? The world is so royally fucked.


P.S. On a totally unrelated note, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World has been added to my list of favorite movies. Also enjoyed (surprisingly) was Eat, Pray, Love. I was expecting it to be a self-help book in movie form, with a few obnoxious chick flick elements added in, but I actually found it really interesting and definitely worth watching.
 
 
Feeling: bitchybitchy
Listening To: Smith Westerns- Weekend