All I really seem able to do right now is write random things to myself. I realize that this detracts from whatever importance might have been in whatever I wrote previously - it's like how nobody will comment on a photo album with 100 photos, but EVERYONE will comment on 1 or 2 pictures... facebook I hate you - but I don't care all that much right now. I'm drinking coffee and listening to Julie Andrews' favorite things. And then I don't feel so bad.
OH it's Sister Suffragette! I must march.
... That's better.
Where were we? Ah yes, I came on here to see if I could figure out how to do a count-down on my profile, you know, to the end of school. Within reach now. I am a happy girl.
A strange thing happened to me today, I've started assuming everyone is French. When Mom and I took a lengthy walk to pick up our pizza, we were passed on the sidewalk by a tall fellow on a skateboard and his scraggly dog. I think he was good-looking, but I also think that I didn't really see him at all - I was too busy trying to look nonchalant in my cool long coat. Anyway, in passing he muttered something which (for some reason) I assumed was "ça va?" but what was really probably just something like "hello". Then I spent the rest of the time trying to figure out if he was one of the French fellows from my class, but as I hadn't seen him, I couldn't be sure. It was frustrating. On the same walk, a car drove by (one of those pimped up ugly things) and a guy with ridiculous sunglasses leaned out the window and hollered, "Hey hey, pretty girl!" at me. It could have been at my mother, actually. Which would just be weird. But that had nothing to do with the French thing at all. I wonder if men actually get any success by doing things like that. I mean, really. Do they expect us to look up and say, "Ah! An admirer! I think I love you." Kate and I were once barked at. That was terribly unattractive.
I feel like I need to write more. Not blogs, I mean stories, or poems, or anything that is anything more than mindless rambles. I do like mindless rambles, but there's not much of a future in that. (Unless you're the woman who writes the Twilight books, of course.) You know those books you read, and you feel like the author somehow KNEW what you needed to read/think about? They just hit you the right way at the right time, and you forever feel this undying loyalty to them. That's the kind of thing I want to write. Something beautiful, something that makes people think. That's what attracts me about acting, too. You have this sudden amazing opportunity to tell people a story; you put your all into it and if you do it right, you know that they won't quickly forget it. There's nothing like it.
I'm so tired these days... makes me feel old. HEY, speaking of being old. I have, for a whole week now, been 17. Congratulations to me. :) I think this year will be better than last year. It had better be, in fact. New Year's this year wasn't much to speak of, so I'm counting this (having started April 7th) as the start of my New Year.
Many happy returns.
ah! avett brothers! jon showed me that song, too. it's so good, isn't it? it takes me away and simultaneously makes me sad. odd how songs can do that. although i have just noticed that one part of the song where one brother echoes the word "spins." and he sounds so annoyed and bored that it cracks me up.
ReplyDeleteincidentally, i look quite smashing with facial hair and victorian male get-up. pish posh. though BEING robert downey jr does throw a wrench in the whole MARRYING him thing.
This song makes me love it more every time I listen to it. I know what you mean about it; it sort of reminds me of seeing Brooklyn for the first time through a taxicab window late at night.
ReplyDeleteIncidentally. My mistake - I'm glad you look smashing with facial hair. Somebody should :)