I either have a really sharp phantom pain in my toe or a shard of glass. I'll keep you posted.

In other news: I'm posting so frequently this could be a tumblr. For sears.

When did fortune cookies become so poetic?

you can see your heart beating through your shirt.

The solution, according to numerology:

My balance number is 2. Thus,
"A 2 Balance Number signifies you should bring your 'Diplomat' to the forefront when facing troubled times. You will do best by suppressing excess emotion, or acting impulsively. Try to reason your way through your problems. Gain allies and defuse enemies with tact and humor. Seek a compromise in which all parties fair evenly."

So apparently I've done the opposite of all that. Whoopsie.

NOTE: THIS IS FOR SHITS&GIGGLES. Mostly in that the description of the balance number is pretty much how you should go about solving ANY CONFLICT with the maximum ease and smiles all around.

Where I'm ultimately going to end up (4th challenge-pinnacle numbers), is apparently in a permanent state of change, in which I need to learn to manage my 'natural sensitivity toward others'. So pretty much yeah. Sucks to be me.

And it just keeps going... Pretty much by the end of it you'll probably get every number at least once...

According to my "karmic" numbers, I lack direction and am unable to commit. Oh, wow, me and EVERYONE ELSE IN A STATE OF EXISTENTIAL CRISIS.

The bad news is my "karmic debt" indicates an abuse of power. OH NOES. The good news is I'm also "a 10!" Which means I should be able to work off my debt, if I play my cards right (no pun intended).

And a bunch more bullshit. But BASICALLY, I'm simultaneously fucked and in a great position for living. Just like any other possible reading. Anyway, I really just found this because I'm looking for the BOSS music played in that numerology Scully/Reyes ep of X-files. Happiness in French, always bizarre enough to work.

UPDATE: The song. You really CANNOT be unhappy listening to this. X-files, I love you.

Current Mood: blah

So after ranting nonstop to my bees about my emoness for the past three days, I've decided to just jump right back on here, high school-style. I mean I never gave up wearing the thick rimmed glasses, but seriously, my emo credibility is faltering with my el jay hiatus. So I'm kind of starting out every sentence with so, (so high school and/or womanly hedge word), but so anyway, so I'm kind of reveling in my new found emoness, because it is SO not srs, but I've been enjoying stumbling around acting as if I'm drunkenly heartbroken, constantly on the verge of reciting, "When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes/I alone beweep my outcast state" WHICH BEE TEA DUBS WAS THE BEST PART OF THE X-FILES. SRSLY. WHEN CIGARETTE SMOKING MAN IS ALL, WHEN IN DISGRACE, MULDER, YOUR MOMMY'LL STILL LOVE YOU. love it bro. Okay so appares I'm pretty terrible at maintaining my emosity for longer than 2 sentences. This used to be my SIGNATURE COLOR (aka black). I DO happen to be wearing 3 articles of black clothing again today Claire (if she reads this), IF YOU INCLUDE MY BRA. Which knowing (me, knowing) you, you do. Anyway I just miss people terribly, and am feeling pretty abandoned, and I DON'T OONDAHSTAND WHY, but it doesn't really matter, cause I just play it all out on my uke and piss off the entire hall with my playing. Srsly, today the guy across the hall was totally giving me a hint when he started blasting the Beirut song I was butchering. And I was like, I CAN TAKE A HINT, THANK YOU (comic book guy voice), and then I took an angry nap just to spite him. BUT HE STILL GOT THE LAST LAUGH. Because he woke me up about 5 times during my nap with his incredibly conspicuous laugh. I forgave him though, because I almost slept through my nighttime shift, which I am currently fulfilling adequately.

Which is how I'm powering through this round of emo: 1) take about 50 billion hours of work (because if I can't be happy, I can at least make money); 2) do all my typical angry routines (including going to the gym, and really disgusting everyone there with my performance. love it. also including listening to UHLKILLER on repeat and making dying cow noises with my singing and attempted instrument practicing from my room); 3)write it all down in my diary. that I have to keep. for my class. SRSLY I LOVE THIS BRO. you cannot TAKE a more appropriate class than creative writing when you're having a fit of the emo variety.

But on a more srs note (I don't think I have typed the word "serious" in years. It has evolved from sirius (occassionally even, "black") to sears, before succumbing to the dominant "srs" where it currently resides), I don't exactly know what to do. I'm missing about 5 people, even with one supposedly right in front of my nose, it's like grub, just allow me into your first class world, PUHLEASE ROSE, I JUST NEED TO TALK TO HER FOR A SECOND. (today has been SUCH A BRILLIANT TITANIC QUOTING DAY. I AM THE KING OF THE WORD. WOO, HOOHOOO.) So I'm feeling really sad about that (ALSO CAN SOMEONE SERIOUSLY (there we go) MAKE A GOOD VERSION OF A TITANIC "SHE'S SO HIGH ABOVE ME" VID. PLEASE. THNX). Once again I am left here knowing that I AM SIMPLY UNABLE TO CROSS A BRIDGE WITHOUT BURNING IT. WHAT THE HELL. I mean this has been my tagline for almost my entire life BUT NOW I'M JUST SEARS LIKE DUB TEA EFF, LIFE. NOT COOL. Cause I wasn't even TUHRAYING to burn any bridges, I just think I freaked everyone out with me being a freak. Makes sense, you know. I really miss you though, but I'm acting like an 8th grader in love, because I've been checking my phone about every 3 seconds (though I stopped that at some point yest afternoon, go figure), and had been cyberstalking, but you're SUCH A TERRIBLE SUBJECT. SRSLY, GO PROSTITUTE YOUR CYBERSELF THE WAY I DO (which is why I will probably never land a job. don't care, ME DANCING RETARDEDLY TO DAVID DUCHOVNY IS TOTALLY WORTH IT.)

Okay you know it's time to call it quits when about half of your entry has become ALLCAPS. So quits I call it. QUITS I SAY. What a narcissistic way to waste your time. I'm almost happier playing BUBBLE SPINNER.

oh I almost forgot to insert emo song lyrics (I do have a poem above, but not good enough). Yesterday I was being all HIGH SCHOOL ANALYZING LYRICS-Y, and I was listening to my theme song which is um Beck, "Bottle of Blues" and I was like THIS IS ALMOST EXACTLY MY LIFE. MINUS YOU KNOW HALF OF IT, BUT THAT IS WHAT EMOS DO BEST. OKAY SRSLY. SERIOUSLY. SIRIUSLY. QUITS.

Current Mood: emo

the problem with the liberal arts is they give us so many tools, and no vision.

fears confirmed.  fuck.

The inside of my nose is intolerably cold.

Cut off all my hair, threw out all my stuff, liberated my computer, got new wall, new keyboard, new operating system with eyecandy surpassing that even of a mac. 

now i still have to finish that lauren vid via fucking sony vegas.  i'm srsly gonna look into ubuntu friendly editors. 

another reason to hate mac?

they stole their entire operating system from a free source code, blah blah blah, SHUT UP OKAY I STILL AM LEARNING TO USE THE TERMINAL.  anyway i hate them.  UBUNTU IS THE PEOPLE'S COMPUTER.  (rather than mac: the spoiled brat's computer.)  TOTALLY SETTING UP A LINUX "STORE" OUTSIDE MIDD'S SELLOUT HOLE.  better yet, make it a co-op.

i'll probably make some sort of similar rant when i get it together for cousinhood but NICK IS COMING NEXT WEEK, so maybe i can use this to my advantage?  have him film our I HATE THE FAGS/VLOGBROTHERS vid.  I SHOULD TOTES PLAY KAYLEY WITH MY HAIR THE WAY IT IS NOW. 

Current Mood: sick of summer& waiting around

convrting to ubuntu tomorrow.  i lik it cau i can typ it nam without my miing ky. 

Almot on with room!!!  Kyboar ail = lot accomplih.

I love Vermont.  How quaint.  All their liberal environmentalism is just so CUTE. (when it doesn't get all preachily self-righteous, a strain that stems in large part from the infamous college know-it-all hippie.)

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/05/us/05cows.html

In other news: You know what really bothers me when people like Cheney try to be all pro-marriage equality while skirting the issue by being all 'well marriage has always been a STATE issue, blah blah blah, leave it to the states'?  It's just not true... and certainly marriage EQUALITY has never just been a STATE issue (I'm talking, of course, about Loving v. Virginia)... certainly a decision with national consequences, no longer containing the issue within the state.  And it certainly will NOT be true until at the very least we repeal DOMA.  And I don't understand why Obama has to tiptoe around this... it certainly seems like a no-brainer compared to the other things he's working on (or at the very least repeal DADT, even MORE of a no-brainer, but whatevs).  Yeah so my conclusion to this rambling jumble is that I like not having to complete my thoughts and/or sentences on el jay.  Awesome (to be read in a Eagle vs. Shark, and decidedly NOT a brotherhood/fag way... except in the DFTBA song which is quite annoyingly addictive.  although mostly annoying.)

In more other news: I don't get why Obama's call for a freeze on further settlements in Israel is even CONTROVERSIAL.  I sort of get why a call to, you know, withdraw illegal settlements would provoke controversy, but all he keeps reiterating is that Israel should no longer partake in illegal activities.  I mean the milk hasn't even been spilt yet.  Why are so many conservatives crying over non-spilt milk?

Finally: guess who's in Paris this weekend?  Obamallama & the fam.  sho shweet.

Current Mood: full

Love it, bro: http://www.worldhum.com/features/speakers-corner/confessions-of-an-introverted-traveler-20090309/

http://www.worldhum.com/features/lists/six-tips-for-introverted-travelers-20090506/

Especially when they involve flannerie.  The bane of my Nouvelle Vague existence for the past six months (or however many classes I actually attended).

Current Mood: hungry

GAWKER LINKED TO MY STAR TREK GAY SEX VID. WTF. WHAT ARE YOU DOING GAWKWER. They even called it "albeit pretty dumb". I SPEND DAYS AND DAYS MAKING MY SRS YOUTUBE VIDS, THROW THIS TOGETHER IN HALF AN HOUR AND THIS IS WHAT EVERYONE WILL REMEMBER ME BY. Now I know how Chris Crocker feels. LULZ.

http://gawker.com/390133/william-shatners-and-star-treks-gay-panic

Current Mood: GRUB!

WHY DO I TAKE LIFE SO SERIOUSLY. GOD. Y SO SRS? SERIOUSLY! Lighten up or soon I'll be as bad as the syndrome.



THAT'S more like it.

Does EVERYONE progress in spirals or is it just me? Anyway the following is going to come off as highly Franny, whose ideas I'd fully progressed past 2 years ago, only to wind up here.

Anyway I'm too lazy to expand upon these, but just so I don't FORGET them, as I may potentially expand upon them later:
1) What, objectively, can be said about taste, other than your traditional 'cultural capital' angle and the overly broad and outdated distinction between low and high art? Aside from all the hipsters and phonies who needlessly complicate this issue, and the whole problem of assigning value judgments to something that is both highly subjective and utterly revealing of the essential self in both how we define ourselves and how we are defined, and aside from pure aesthetic judgments (the text book example of subjectivity), is there anything that can be said about abstract thinking (not necessarily abstraction), or the relative difficulty or accessibility of a piece in relation to its depth? Basically, what separates a Braque from a (1911-1914 cubist) Picasso, or a Gauguin from a Van Gogh (pre that whole ear fiasco)? And what does any of this have to do with the fundamental worth of a person who is doing nothing more than absorbing said cultural objects? Not sure, but while no one should be judged on their tastes (other than the basic, oooo I don wanna be freends with YOOOU, you're OOOGLY, better known as: we have nothing in common), I think there may be some highly specific, TEMPORAL objective statements to be made, not necessarily about the worth or aesthetic value, but possibly about the level of complexity or abstraction involved. Still, there is nothing, other than our snobbish society, which dictates that complexity, depth, or abstraction are inherently superior to accessibility, simplicity (tis a gift), or literalness. Certainly pre-20th century society had vastly different cultural standards. Progression or simple change?

2) Which all ties back into what Q might call "the human compulsion" and what I would consider, "highly depressing". Only in this, existential angst, "I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody", Franny state-of-mind. Everything that humanists love and celebrate about the human condition -- our desire to go above and beyond, to break all the barriers, to be the best we can be in order to create the best of all possible worlds -- all that can easily be reframed to reveal the underlying fear prompting it. What is it about our fellow humans or peers that is so distasteful to as that it prompts us to go to any lengths to distinguish ourselves? Why do we feel the need to DEFINE ourselves (most often by contrasting an "us" and a "them"?) It is this fear of mediocrity, of being the same, of being insignificant, which could be considered a fear of being human. Just human. Nothing more. (Naturally this can just as easily be flipped back around and say that denying the "human compulsion" is just as indicative of fear of being human, if not more so, than following it to its logical conclusions). But you have to admit that there is something at least slightly depressing in the human need to be different, unique, and its utter hatred of the idea of similarity, and possibly, by extension, unity. I mean there is a REASON the Borg are the most famous, if not necessarily the most compelling, Star Trek villain. The annihilation of identity is intolerable to the human mind, possibly stemming from our knowledge of our own demise, or what have you, just go out and read all those soul-sucking philosophers or psychoanalysts, and I'm sure they'll tell you. Of course we also have to recognize that this whole need to exceed the sum of our parts and go beyond what we know and everything is tempered by our need for acceptance as well. We are always encouraged to "think outside the box", all the while being told to adhere to the rules of that box, as they are necessary for continued social cohesion. And let's not pretend that any thinking outside the proverbial box is equally valuable. Serial killers can be faulted for many things, but certainly not a failure to "think outside the box". But the main issue is this fear of being trapped in the box. Some people must remain in the box for a box to exist at all, and why does this devotion to mediocrity have to be seen as so utterly vile? Why can't this be seen as the very affirmation of humanity, a connection which binds one another in an enduring sameness? Why can't we accept that there is very little to this notion of self (until, of course, I flip into my Zooey mind and explain to my Franny mind that it is NOT EGO which is the problem, but people not expressing their TRUE EGO.) But god. You are not unique. You are a drone with the arrogance to assume that you matter. HOW NIHILISTIC. I LOVE IT.
Still, there's nothing to be gained from keeping all this in mind, so it is better to go on "discovering" (aka constructing) your self, being productive, and ignoring futility lest you succumb to some sort of nihilistic despair. It's all relative, so just put yourself in a Zooey state of mind, and at least you can try to waste as few resources as possible during your existence.

OKAY THAT WAS WAY TOO MUCH. BUT I'LL JUST REMEMBER THE REST OF IT FOR LATER. THAT'S ALL I WANT TO SAY ABOUT NIHILISM AND EXISTENTIALISM FOR A LONG LONG TIME. LESS SARTRE MORE SPLEEN, WHICH IS AFTER ALL, QUITE LIFE-AFFIRMING.

Last part was just about France and my decidedly un-French state of mind. And Paris. And how vile both postcard-proud tourists and blase hipster snobs ultimately are. Because I'm constantly veering between one and the other, though I tend to land on the snob side FAR TOO OFTEN. Except that I'm not really blase about France, because I take it too seriously to be blase, but also too seriously to bring myself to mail postcards on its behalf. Fraaaaance is such a serious thing! This nation matters. GOD WHY AM I SO DEMANDING OF FRANCE. FRANCE IS ALL LIKE DUDE, SERIOUSLY, STOP STALKING ME, AND I'M LIKE, NO FRANCE. NEVER. I'LL NEVER STOP STALKING YOU BECAUSE I'M CRAZY FATAL ATTRACTIONS LADY AND PART OF YOU IS INSIDE OF ME (namely, your language).

EDIT: So even I easily flip back to the humanist side, when I encounter John Green trying to be all cool in quoting Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald about the fundamental contradiction between the futility of effort and the necessity of struggle. Cause I say this: all effort is futile, but given that the only alternative to effort is death (which in turn, is what makes effort futile in the first place [by this I meant mass death-- watch the video and you understand]), the only POSSIBLE approach to life is one of struggle, strife, and progress up until the point of our ultimate annihilation. this is certainly the fundamental case in which free will does not apply, in that we have no choice but to live, produce, create, and follow our "human compulsion", as Q would put it, to its logical conclusion.

GOD I JUST LOVE Q. THAT'S WHAT THIS IS BASICALLY ALL ABOUT. Q. AND THAT AWESOME SUICIDE EP OVER WHETHER Qs HAVE THE RIGHT TO DIE. I LYOVE IT BRO.

Current Mood: odd

Sheen. After Sunday's fam guy, I think we've got another song to add to a Yellow Party play list. I LYOVE IT.

So far we've got:
'Big Yellow Joint'
'High as Fuck'
'Bag of Weed'

prob others, but it's a fine fine line, between hilarious and retard.

Okay, so this is hilarious to me. This is pretty much like the equivalent Alanis Morrsette's interpretation of "my humps". In high school French, in Miss Brown's class we listened to/sang "Moi, Lolita" which was like a ditzy pop song referencing the Lolita story. Essentially. So just pretty like brainless and great.

And this guy turns it into this painful ballad rock song. And it is just so funny to me, but since I have no one to share it with, I'll throw it up here:
www.youtube.com/watch

Okay no embedding, poo. But it is hilarious.

And this is the original (which was popular when Miss Brown was studying here with Middlebury, so go figure how old it is... 10 years maybe?)

Current Mood: amused

I am one. And the New York Times told me it was okay!  It's about the freakishness of unexpected crying.

My list of recent tears:
1) The Rufus-Lily season 1 scene where Rufus is waiting for her to finally COME TOGETHER AND FIGURE THINGS OUT, and Lily shows up empty handed and DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING.  And they both DON'T SAY ANYTHING.  And it's SHO SHAD.  And for the record, I totally think they missed their opportunity, because second season Rufus-Lily is totally retarded.
2) Also Susan Boyle, but didn't everyone?
3) oh GOD.  This is the worst.  I THINK I either teared up/was touched by a B'Elanna/Tom scene butI don't remember which. 

Normally the list would be a lot longer, but more recently I've been overwhelmed by squeals.  Given go fits of hysterical squealing whenever anything reaches a certain level of toot/awkward/perfectness.
It all started with the time Janeway told Neelix, "You of all people should know, that the first duty of any starfleet officer is to the TRUTH (whether it be scientific truth, historical truth, or PERSONAL TRUTH; it is the guiding principle by which starfleet was born, and if you can't find it within yourself to stand up and tell the truth, you don't deserve to WEAR THAT UNIFORM.)"  And I let out this giant enormous squeal by myself in my house just cause this was the moment I thought I WAS ACTUALLY A REAL TREKKIE.  CAUSE JANEWAY QUOTING PICARD EXCITED ME TO THE POINT OF SQUEALING.  And since then squealing has been my go-to response when ever anything gets that exciting.

Recent squeals:
1) Reading Salinger (a given, but his writing style/humor is so squeal worthy)
2) When my art teacher referenced the transporter beam in relation to SOMETHING, it DOESN'T MATTER WHAT, my TWO FAVORITE YET OPPOSITE THINGS WERE UNITED FOR ONE BRIEF SHINING MOMENT.
God, I know there are about 50 more examples, I just can't think of them right now.  It has become so common place that it is no longer noteworthy.  However, I shall continue to inform you, dear reader, of any squeal in the future.

Current Mood: squealing

You know how youtube usually suggests totally embarrassing videos for you to watch, like for Jean and my viewing history they'd probably come up with something like "gay babies getting hurt". Well for ONCE, it came up with the most PERFECT SONG EVER for me. I mean I've had another "this is too perfectly perfect moment, so I have to pause and squeal", so I haven't listened to the whole thing but the beginning is all about how Paris is awful and it hurts my ears it hurts my ears, and how he stays in and doesn't wanna see anyone and stays up till 5 am, wearing PANTSUITS. except that last part.

But yeah. ANNE YOU SHOULD SEE IF YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ANY OF IT! The song is "J'aime plus Paris".... I NO LONGER LOVE PARIS. It just makes me so incredibly happy.

Current Mood: happy