Betrayal/Var's Debut

Well, Michael Aranda is pretty awesome.

Just thought I'd share...
Stuff 'n stuff.

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You know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to start a story or something. Just sort of randomly, and it's probably not going to work, but I just feel like it. It'll just be practice or something. Or, more like torture for my readers.

Ahem. So. I guess a lot of times I get these random quotes or snippets of a name or characteristic of a character or something. I write them down with a pencil on some paper, pretty messily. They're just ideas, they don't have to add up to anything.... yet. Sometimes I'll go back and stare in bewilderment, wondering what the heck I was talking about. I need a plot. I could always go with a generic one, just some variation of bad vs. evil. Wait... wait... argh. There was a perchancidea (oh yes, I did just make up that word just this second- perchance + idea; you think you might be on the right road towards some sort of idea, but then it sort of flitters feebly and dies. I'm left with a wide expanse again). Okay I've got a quote... but I had a... WAIT.

Come on ideas, you best be flowing or I'll come over there and...

THIS IS FRUSTRATING. HOW CAN I LINK THAT TO THAT!??!?! THERE MUST BE A WAY! Or maybe I can just not use that... but it's such a good idea! Okay okay... so.. murder? Maaaaybbbee.... some sort of a trip? A different world? No no... present day should be good.

Waiiitttt.... waiiitttttttttttttttttttt..........dang it.

WAIT. I think I got something. It's slightly generic and expected, but you never know. Besides, it's not like this has to be a masterpiece.

I'm just going to start with the quote and we'll see how it goes. Enjoy? Oh and.. just to make it "interesting", I'll maybe put stuff in italics to mean the "author's" (as in me) thoughts, like how I got there or whatever. Just... just whatever.

Some sort of Chapter One thing

"Are you calling me a murder, Mr. (argh I need a good name! think...) Hillergag? Surely," Mr. Mewlin squinted his eyes so that they resembled a thin electricity line hanging in a bleak sky (terrible, just a terrible metaphor), "you know of my recent past as a doorknob salesman, so how could I possibly have murdered someone?" He spoke it softly but with a sly underbelly, so as to intimidate and distact the frail Mr. Hillergag. Then he laughed, nervously but still with a cold stare.

The thing about Mr. Hillergag, however, was that he somehow seemed to think everyone was a salad. "There are all kinds," he would say, "but they are always green. Always. And I have not met ANY, not one, that lived in New Hampshire." Therefore, he did not understand how Mr. Mewlin could possibly be anything but a mass of tossed green leaves, perhaps mixed with a mustard or vinegar and olive oil dressing, preferably served with bread on the side and with a glass of nice French wine. Whenever he feels defied or confused, as he did now, he always scrunches up his mouth, holds his breath for a few seconds, and replies with a rushed voice, "The carrots! The carrots! Speckle them on top! Buy! Buy! Sell! Sell! It's a fork!!! A fork, I tell you! Not to cut the leaves!!!!!"

After blinking for several seconds, Mr. Mewlin walked away and continued on to sell his doorknobs, shaking his head and muttering things about salads and restraining orders. Mr. Hillergag calmed down for a moment and then ran out of the building, suddenly overcome with energy. The street was paved with lots of people, all bustling to do their business. Many carried briefcases and wore fancy clothes, clearing their throats politely to themselves and then checking their cell phones/pagers/whatever the heck they have.

Just then, as Mr. Hillergag burst out of the glass doors, which had doorknobs labeled Mewlin Doorknob Enterprise, a crack much like an aged grandma biting into an apple erupted from Up There and liquid poetry crashed down on the clothed shoulders of all the people Down There, which caused a very coreographed motion. One of the men walking about with his briefcase and black socks (he was wearing more than that, of course) grunted, looked up at the sky and grabbed for his umbrella under his arm. The people behind him did the same, as well as the people in front.

"You're all bloody salad!!! Salad, I tell you!" And now, all of the umbrella-d rich folks turned to the new disturbance, which of course was Mr. Hillergag yelling and pointing at them in the street. He leaned down on the cement, his knees immediately soaked with the wet rain and started whimpering.

"Actually sir," a greyish figure, dark and obscure-looking, because of the heavy rain, loomed up next to the groveling man and spoke with a slightly strained voice, "I rather think of myself as a cardboard box,"

Mr. Hillergag looked up, and at first didn't notice who spoke, seeing as it was very short. The other people with their identical umbrellas and briefcases had now moved on, and made a mental note to not order salad for lunch today. The speaker turned out to be a.. a fish. A trout, to be exact.

"A... a cardboard box?" The salad-crazed man examined the trout, a new feeling of hope washing over him.

"Well, not really. But my father graduated from the University of Cardboard Boxe University, so I sort of take after him," He added a smile, his blue-green scales, partially hidden because of his brown tie, sparkling for a second as a cloud opened up to allow a yellow ray of warmth shed down even in the rain. He did not look much like a fish, really, but it still passed off in customs. His voice sounded like a human's, actually.

"'Boxe' with an e?" Mr. Hillergag stood up now, his whole face streaming with rain drops.

"Yes. In fact, that is the correct spelling of box. The whole world is actually in a state of utter ignorance. What's your name?"

Mr. Hillergag stared. He stared for nearly an hour; a talking trout. Asking his name. But the fact was, Mr. Hillergag wasn't insane- he just acted this way to get into books and stories. He was really a genius, and the reason he made himself stare at the trout was just for looks. He wasn't surprised at all; so many things like this rare occurence had happened in books, and he wasn't the least bit startled at weird or strange things happened.. in real life.

The trout proved to have an unbelievably long attention span and not to mention amount of patience. By the time Mr. Hillergag found it long enough to act dazed, which was nearly 2 and a half hours, the salad that the people that had been called salad that they did not in fact order had gotten cold.

"Morrison Hillergag. And you?"

The trout looked pleased with this conversation, straightened his tie with his fins and replied, "Fraser. Fraser Gibson. And by the way, I'm a door salestrout. You know, like a door salesman but I'm a trout."

"Ah. Ah yes. I'm not really anything, except I tend to be in a lot of books," Morrison was now on his feet, not caring to brush off his wet clothes since it was still pouring, or minding the stares he was still getting from passersby.

"Books, you say?" the trout looked interested, and came to join his new friend on a nearby bench. Bleak rain drops bounced off the wood, leaving murky puddles and a pitter patter sound.

"Well, yes. I tend to be in the background of them, acting as those surprised or frightened people. For example, d'you remember those James Bond books? I was one of those screaming, running away people when the bomb was going to go off." He looked thoughtfully out at the nearby buildings, and then a thought struck him.
"Hey, how are you breathing air?" he asked Fraser with wide, sceptical eyes.

"Me? Oh yes well-" but the mysterious trout could not give his answer, as Mr. Mewlin had suddenly reappeared at that moment, and at his side was a police man.

Chapter Two or whatever shall come later.. one of these days. I sort of just felt like stopping. Remember now, this is just a first draft! I hope I actually continue this, though...

Yann Tierson

Gosh.

Well, instead of sneezing up gosh's and omg's and dude's and all that bligadesh, I'll blog. Because that's what the youth today does; listen to mostly crapful music while typing up stuff on the internet which periodically includes improper grammar and/or spelling while pretending that the rest of us care while annoyingly chewing gum, wearing clothes that everyone else wears and yet complaining about the fact that their shirt is blue. And yes, I am a hypocrit. And aware that that was so stereotypical that I think a certain Mr. Pudhif's briefcase exploded into a million orange peels.

For those of you not entirely scarred (as in, familiar) with the many internet doings, April has quite a "Do such and such every day in this month!" theme. For instance, my mom first notified me of the Write a Poem Everyday in April (not sure if that's the exact name, but I think it's close- I mean, how many different variations could there be?) thing. Which I believe she is participating in. I, however, might put a poem in here and there, but I think I've made my readers suffer enough.

YouTube ----> Vlog Every Day in April (VEDA). They made "everyday" two words, as you can see. I know one guy who's doing it. However, the original was to blog everyday in this fine month of lions and lambs, so I think that is more appropriate. And I believe, but correct me if I am wrong, that Maureen Johnson started this whole obsessive everyday thing, so all credit goes to that fine lady. YOU SHOULD check out her blog. She's an actual author (though I confess I actually haven't read any of her books), so that means her blog is actually worth... worth. As opposed to *cough* someone's *cough*. Note: I'm referring to mine, if you didn't catch that. Yeah, I'm a pretty dedicated supporter of my internet life.

So anyway! I suppose I'll unformally and partially-undetectedly sort of participate in that. And it shouldn't be so hard, because about half of this month is break.

OH OH OH!

And guess what TODAY is, you guys. That's right- another important notch in my continuing (and seemingly endless) year in France.

Nine twelfths. Five sixths. Not sure if there should be one of those - things. I decided to do it (write down the numbers) English to challenge myself sort of. Well, I mean think about it- when do you, fellow English speaker, ever actually write down the numbers out? We learn it like once and then hardly deal with it ever again, save for maybe the pursusing of an English-Foreign (second?) Language teacher guy person, I guess. Ok enough.

But, really- 9/12 of the way done. I commonly associate 12 with 9, at least in math class- like with changing the common denominators in fractions, and common... factor... ness. You know? So 9 is a bigee. THREE FOURTHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wait. Yes! It's true. I mean, it's like actually April. I consider(ed) April to be one of those... sort of.. magical and rare and precious and amazing and fantastical months when I started this year. 'Cause I mean, really, it's like.... and I know I've repeated this several times, but really- the home stretch. Not the real one, but we're allowed false hope that is indeed not even false, but merely perhaps an overreaction, or stretching of terms, or enlarged optimism, but which of course turns out to become just plain hope and then sore mouths from smiling and then ending this sentence.

I feel like I've been neglecting this blog for a while. So it feels really nice to start writing in it again. I mean, there's never going to be another March 2009 ever again! It's gone! Done! I never have to stumble upon it again, and try to prevent myself from doing one of those horrid depressed, over-written blog posts.

And yet, I feel almost as though trapped in this never-ending circle of thinking I had something to say, procrastinate, somehow feel worse, never write, or if I do, it just sounds like everything else I've been saying and it's terrible and I regret it but then I describe the whole cycle in a later post and just

Yeah. But I hope, that by the end of this year, that at least some of you will sort of get to grasp why I was/am like that. Like, understand me and not just wave me off as some crazed teenager and pretend not to be related to me.

My back itches. It was seriously warm today, and we're going skiing tomorrow. Which is... eh. I mean, skiing is awesome and all, but at a certain point even a winter enthusiast like me wants to fully acknowledge the smell of fresh, bright green grass. But anyway, we got to watch this rather interesting film in French class. And I mean French French class, not FLE. It was one of those films that you often see at film festivals (here I go stereotyping again), but like... those.. I mean, yes, most would call them "weird", but of course it's art. It's not "usual" and often has those imaginative themes. Gee, what a horrible, strange addition to culture- imaginative art. I tend to not understand why some people don't like this stuff. Or at least appreciate. How judgemental of me.

But anyway, it's called "L'Homme Aux Bras Ballants", which basically means the man with dangling arms. And, by the way, the title of this post is the name of the composer/player of the music in the video. I actually really dig this kind of stuff; it really makes you think about stuff, and since they're short, it kinda fills me with this woody, nostalgic and gnawing feeling that makes me wish I could stay in that world longer. Kind of like when you finish a book like Harry Potter or something. Watch it. You'll be culturally enhanced. I mean, I guess we have this stuff in America, but I dunno it seemed more French. Reminded me of Tim Burton's stuff. I think it was inspired by a poem.



It'd be interesting to see what you guys think of it, you know. I thought it was pretty creative meself.

Um. Yeah. I was going to say something. Burnt out. I've probably already written too darn much. Tomorrow?

It's CALLED living in December, gosh!

So... new month, new blog post, new... whatever. DECEMBER! Awesome. Probably my favorite month. But let's see... I've been in France (Europe) for about 154 days, and there are only about 211 left according to my calculations. Then it will be 200 left. Then 190. Then 180. Then 170. Then, you get the point. All the way to 5 left. And then yeah.

7 more months, people. That's approximately 5,064 hours! And about 303,840 minutes. And only 18,230,400 seconds. Which will continue to tick tick tick away.

But enough numbers. 5 months... November was pretty cool I guess. There was Obama (W00t!!!), coming back from London,Thanksgiving, and uh... more French. I actually feel somewhat confident, or at least more confident in the French classes. I.e. it seems like I sort of can sort of actually sort of understand what the hell they are saying. At least, the simple stuff like "skip a line" or "learn this for Wednesday" or "your pronunciation is terrible and you said something wrong" or even "turn to page 194 and answer all the questions" etc etc. I'm not trying to brag, it's just that my brain has decided to let this click. So, perhaps French will.. can... is... cool.

School is eh still. But actually, I've gotten pretty used to it I guess. And life rocks (still). It's getting "cold"er and there is lots of white on them mountains.

What else what else... I'm still really into guitar and trumpet and yeah. I've kinda.. given up on the documentary idea. I probably have mentioned this. I'm just very busy. And it probably wouldn't... turn out... the greatest. But whatevz.

It seems like I haven't talked to my friends in a while. That is no.

Wait a second. Christmas is this month!??! For some reason I just... can't really.. feel the magic here. Perhaps it is the lack of utter gaggy unnecessary decorations. I mean, I've noticed a few lights and stuff that are probably trying to look like a sled, but these guys are pretty shy about it over here it seems. Oh and then there's my birthday. I'm not even going to try to think about that.

Ya ever feel like really inspired and like hyped up about something and all you want to do is get out of there and do it? I need/want/have to write a song. Or something. It's like maddening. Guitar! Guitar! Frets! Strum! Sort of sing! Lyrics! Guitar! Strings! CDs! Music! Yes!

So... Coldplay, along with Julia Nunes. Who I found out about by one of my friends. French hornian. But Julia Nunes.. she is very very cool, you gotta check her out, man. And... um... by "checking her out" I mean, clicking on her YouTube profile and whatnot... pixels...yeahhh:







Why does it seem like something major is missing here (in my life)? It just seems like I haven't talked to people in a while. But argh I want to chat and all but also try waking up early on the weekends. Fo real. Delemna.

Zach knows this one girl who can speak 5 languages. That just like creeped me out.

We have 1000 hits people. That took about... 2 months? Thank you thank you thankkkk you. I hope... well, according to the last poll this blog is "interesting". I try. I really do.

One-ies

Over the weekend we went on this really cool hike and made a snowman. There were some cool pictures; might add 'em later.

In gym we're doing these gymnastics-like "exercises" which are incredibly awkward and ugh.

I think I'll call one of my awesome friends (meaning they are all awesome) tonight, but I guess I won't be able to talk much. I've got an SVT test on volcanoes tomorrow and hockey... which I am not actually looking forward to much. I dunno why. I sort of made some new "friends" in the CERN one. I've established myself as defense, and I talked to my partner a little bit (imagine what Roman says with a slight French accent, which I sort of tried to put in there):

Roman: (that's probably not how you spell it, but it sounds like that sort of): So uh where do you come from?

Me: Uh, Michigan.

Roman: Do you zike it here?

Me: Um, its ok I guess.

Roman (looking almost sympathetic): But uh, I bet you miss your uh friends... and the school is pretty... pretty hard.

Me: Yeah.

Wow. It's like these guys actually know what its like.

Roman: So, zou change uh vith ze tall one- number eight... ate-ee?

Me (clearing up his pronunciation): Yeah, eighty.

I'm learning how to play the Looney Tunes theme thing on trumpet, which is pretty cool. I really really like Coldplay now. And as for algebra, yeah I guess I can do it.. maybe... I can try.

On the way back from Geneva, (we were shopping and stuff) I overheard these two English guys talking. The one guy was ranting about how bad his school, teachers and work was and stuff. He probably said the F-word at least once in every sentence. When we got off, my mom turned to them and said, "Excuse me, but if I was your mother I would ground you for a week for saying so many swear words in public." I didn't look at them. I just continued straight on.

See, to me that was... wow. Embarrassing. My mom's argument was that those guys were (poorly) representing their country over here and that that guy was a spoiled kid. I somehow found myself almost defending the guy, saying its other peoples' fault for judging people like that. I mean, to me, French people (and really anyone) can think whatever they want about Americans. That's not to say I don't care about my/our/whatever so-called "reputation" but I mean, think about it. I'm just another person, and "American" is just a.. label. The world should be more together. That'd be cool. They're being racist, as Zach put in, and that kid should be able to express himself. But then again, the F-word is offensive and.. well I dunno.

Your guyses thoughts?

Talking Ties

News for your ears/eyes... (music-related jarble).

What's this now?

Robert Plant rules, man! Though his lack of shirt is... yeah. Very noticeable.

But here's the video from a comment posted on that link, which is actually not so bad.



And, the Killers seem to have a somewhat newish song out, which is a lot like their "Human". (Though I like Spaceman better.) Check it out- it's pretty sweet.



And hey, I added a new playlist. Thought you guys might have gotten tired of that old one. Hope you like. It's called "Shoelace Communication".

Yes We Can

Mmmmmhhhhhmmmmmmm!!!!!! Thumbs up right back-atcha.

I've got a feeling, a feeling deep inside
Oh yeah, Oh yeah. (that's right.)
I've got a feeling, a feeling I can't hide
Oh no. no. Oh no! Oh no. Yeah! Yeah!
I've got a feeling. Yeah!
Oh please believe me, I'd hate to miss the train
Oh yeah, yeah, oh yeah.
And if you leave me I won't be late again
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Yeah Yeah I've got a feeling, yeah. I got a feeling.
All these years I've been wandering around,
Wondering how come nobody told me
All that I was looking for was somebody
Who looked like you.
I've got a feeling that keeps me on my toes
Oh yeah, Oh yeah.
I've got a feeling, I think that everybody knows.
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh yeah. Yeah! Yeah!
I've got a feeling. Yeah!
Ev'rybody had a hard year. (8 of them really)
Ev'rybody had a good time.
Ev'rybody had a wet dream.
Ev'rybody saw the sunshine.
Oh yeah, Oh yeah. Oh Yeah.
Ev'rybody had a good year.
Ev'rybody let their hair down.
Ev'rybody pulled their socks up. (yeah.)
Ev'rybody put their foot down. Oh yeah. Yeah! WOOOOHOO!

CHANGE WE NEED; CHANGE WE HAVE

After staying up till almost 5 am, chatting with awesome people and listening to Obama pwn that other creep, I woke up at 12:31 in France, hearing a familiar deep and powerful voice. We. Did. It. Suddenly, this day just seems awesome. It's the best. Because, you know what? Screw that Spanish class. Tally Hall is right- it's useless to worry. I can be in a different world. When I come back, it'll be to a country I have confidence in. At least, more confidence than it had for the past 8 years. We can save those polar bears, we can restore the US's "good name", if ever was such the case.

Thanks for voting.

And thank YOU, Obama (do I care that he won't see this? {no}).

Next four years- inspiration's gonna hit us hard.









Dunno if you can tell, but that's an OBAMA/BIDEN sign which I found in London, near the London Tower Bridge.

Ugh you know what was stupid? Apparently during McCain's... "I lost" speech, his supporters still said "NObama" and all that. Really shows the kind of people that support that guy. Geez. But hey, thank goodness that one crazy lady I saw on the news didn't win. Or McCain. You know, you'd think if he really cared about his country that he'd not run. Eh. Too late.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

Absolutely NO bervems!

Today is a day of... importance? Significance. It is November 3rd, yes and most people would consider tomorrow (I'd give you my two cents on Election Day, but I'll spare you the torture) to be the big buheezum (new word). But see, today is the 121th day, and it is also marks the 4th... 3rd day of the month. And because 4 months have passed out of 12, this is also the one third mark! So boo-yah! Only 2/3 more of this... this... European experience. And it's also the start of another month, and you know what that means! It means... reflection... I guess. October was ok. Helped with the break. I think I can do this! Oh and you know that "epic" blog entry I was going to do at the end? Well hmm... might not have time. But anyway! I can sum up London in like... four words/concepts:

Rainy
Cold
English accent-y
Rainy again

And just one more for good measure:

wet/grey

But hey, I like the rain and actually London is pretty cool. I need a guitar! Like right now. And maybe my trumpet! Dude- I'm going to be so out of lip when I come back. But what the hey.

Breaking Dawn is pretty friggin' AWESOME to me. I'm on page 500, only about 300 more! I heard not many people liked this one, but I think it's great! Edward seems much better to me now. Jacob is... yeah. For those of you not familiar with the series, go check them out.

We went to the movies last night- Zach (Indian woman we're staying with- mom's friend) took us to Quantum of Solace. I saw a Twilight poster. I guess there's a trade-off, because QoS hasn't even come out yet in the States, but Twilight gets out like a month later over here. So DARN. I actually sort of want to see it. Could be a birthday present.

Random Movie Reviews by a Random Blogger (RMRbRB) Nuhm-buh One!
"Take it from me- I see a few movies and tell you what I think of them!"
"Some say I'm too harsh on popular culture... but I just give my two cents!"

Quantum of Solace

The new James Bond with that modern *grimace* actor guy Daniel friggin' Craig.

Plot: From what I could tell, some guy (Dominic Green) wanted some oil, then was after controlling (rationing, destroying) the Bolivian water supply...

Parts: I'd say this one was about 79% senseless/overdone/not necessary violence, 4% classy parties/tuxedos, 16.8% "girl-related scenes" and maybe .2% "humor".

Opening Scene/Credits: Opening Scene was probably the most violent one I'd seen; very exciting, almost painful to watch. Credits had a good theme song, pretty good/classic effects.

Gadget Factor: Nope. None of that. Even the car(s) were disappointing.

The Verdict: This movie is crap. Plot is no; hard to follow- hardly anything to follow and I just did not see the point. Just violence and a bad guy who didn't really do anything bad. More and more, the new James Bond movies become terrible and almost unbearable for me. What happened with the classics??? I would not recommend it, but I s'pose if you're one of those 007 fanatics, it's unavoidable. I did not like it, though.

Hey, but if you see it tell me what you think.

The British commercials were pretty cool. I actually sort of liked them better. The accents were enough to make me almost crack up, too.

Random Book Reviews by Some Blogger (RBRbSB)

Maximum Ride: The Final Warning by James Patterson

4th installment of the AWESOME series about 6 mutant bird kids.

This book seemed short and to me it didn't seem like Jimmy Pat put in his all for this one. I mean, ok, he just wrote 3 amazing books which must have been extremely hard, but I was disappointed. Was it just me or did Max not seem like Max hardly at ALL in this one? It felt rushed, I was surprised how the characters acted and the lack of action. I guess that's what you get when you don't have a strong conflict (well, "strong"). But it was Maximum Ride, and I couldn't pass it up. I'm not really sure I even want a movie though... the books are made for film I guess, but we all know how they ruin them. Whatever.

Some yeah and yeah...

Karina: yes

i wish i could play the drums

thats like my dream

me: awesome!

good dream

Karina: i have many

me: I can imagine you

in like a cafe

Karina: LOL

servin coffee?

me: in a t-shirt, ripped jeans

awesome hair

no

Karina: yes!

me: behind the set

Karina: lol

LOL

me: busting down those beats

Karina: Lol

me: and leading the band

and everyone#s like

Karina: yeaaame: omg its karina! she's on the drums! use those sticks karina! she rocks!

Karina: LOL!

amelia u rock

me: and then you get free coffee from the owner of the almost run- down shop, who wears a stained led zeppelin tour shirt and some brown cargo paints

his name's josh

Karina: LOL

me: and he plays the bass
Karina: u make everything better

seriously

me: I do???

Karina: yes!

More stuff sometime. Miss you guyses!

P.S. We've got more than 500 hits, guys! That is awesome! *pumps fist* Thank you so much again for reading this! I seriously appreciate it. Even if you don't comment. And if you do comment, you get an extra virtual high-five from yours truly. *virtual high five* Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou. You guys get free coffee from Josh too. So does Alex Johnson:



^ Best d*mn guitarist. An idol.

Cool

You know what occured to me today? Well I wanted to be cool. But I was cool. Like, start up guitar again. I wanted to be in a rock band. I wanted to strum chords, make up my own stuff. So far on this trip, I've purchased the following things:

Coldplay- A Rush of Blood to the Head CD
Talking Heads-Remain in Light CD
The Beatles Rubber Soul T-Shirt
Led Zeppelin calendar
Maximum Ride: The Final Warning
The Lake House
Breaking Dawn
This other cool shirt that says Life Rules: 1. Born 2. Art School 3. Rock Band 4. World

I sort of decided to continue with trumpet mainly recently, but now I want to do both. Rock is cool. Simple pleasure. So is trumpet. Do both. I want to be one of those... really cool, polite, knowledgable teens. Does this sound... high ego-ish? I'm just setting goals. Or, sort of finding myself. My hair is growing pretty fast. It's like I need a haircut again. But I sort of like this length.

Hey, I think I'm maybe alright. In terms of yesterday and stuff. I think I was just overwhelmed you know. And it just... I've heard from several adults that doing this sort of thing (moving for a year, etc) is really extra hard for teens. So, great. It's just so... depriving. My friends have each other back home, and it always just seems like the best thing to be back there, and have them be alive for you. With you. So I don't see why they act so... casual about it or whatever. Guess this really sets stuff in perspective. It already has. Constantly.

But hey, you know what? Anthony said it was ok, he said I'd get through it. Tomorrow will be like exactly a third of the way done. Tomorrow will be the 4th month. I'll keep blogging, keep breathing, keep taking it all in. You guys are still alive and Abbey Road is still an incredible album.

Still would be great to talk to you guys for Christ's sake.

I think this song is my favorite of the Beatles: (first one below)

Click, because stupid YouTube/Blogger won't let me embed it.

I want to marry this guy. Well ok, not really but he still ROCKS.

The coolness to be elaborated on. Later posts, stuff.

The yeah again

Ew. But I guess everyone has their opinion. Still, imaging a person such as her being president is pretty shocking. Dangerous. Gross. Weird. Whereas if Obama gets it, that'd be pretty friggin' gnarly, man. You get plenty of this in the media so I won't keep rattling on. What is it now, like 8 days? Wow.

I Skype'd with O and E yesterday which was pretty cool. Their video wasn't working though so I couldn't see them. Oh well. I'd like to call my friends more. That'd be pretty awesome. Skype is pretty nice, actually.

My mom is writing a play. She describes it with words along the lines of "annoying", "hard", "terrible", "tiring", etc. She works a ton on it. Says it never ends. Says she almost hates it. Says her characters talk to her and she has to write it all down. She's also been listening to A Long and Winding Road almost 24 hours straight, since she says that song will be included in the play. She first heard it on my iPod, and was quite struck by the awesomeness of having one of those. Now she uses YouTube or something.

8 months, 7 days. Left.

Anthony: pretty much the whole midwest has wind advisory (light blue)

me: wow

I'm still not glad I'm not here

Anthony: yeah

of course

me: duh

Anthony: but you are nearly a third of the way through

the time will fly by

me: yes

day 115 I think

Phillies won again. But I mean honestly, I'm happy either way. But it'd be cool if it was 7 games. Or yeah.

So we leave for London early on Wednesday, so I've got today and tomorrow to get some stuff done. And now my friends will only be on late again because they have school. And then Halloween. Dang. I was so distracted. It snuck up way too fast.

You know what I'd like? A powdered donut. I haven't had one of those in a while. And suddenly I thought of them. Aahh... *pretends to drool but not really*

Well actually I did have a donut. Amazingly. Zach got some. They were soooo gooood. And also I filmed the first scene of my documentary. The camera has terrible battery life. Not sure if I like what I have, but we'll see.

I stumbled over this awesomeness and felt the need to share... and have succeeded in not filling up everything with these: !!!!!!!!!!!!!! Enjoy and read the books!!!!





If they make Max a slut or whatever, I will personally sue. Yeah sure Alex come along.

Go Blue!! And white...

AP Photo/Jay LaPrete

HA HA. Thank goodness at least ONE of my favorite teams is doing alright. More than alright.

This is not related to the above at all, but it's cool, so deal.



Like the second song I learned on guitar. It's awesome.

I'm a "flair making machine!"

Half day means I have lunch, do homework and stare at a screen for a while. I got on facebook and made some lovely pieces of flair, which are basically like virtual pins with stuff on 'em to "express yourself" on your profile. They're pretty cool, take about 10-20 seconds to make one. Then I had to stop because I apparently made too much. But yeah.

I was pretty surprised in English math(s) today. We're doing scatter graphs now and the teacher mentioned how we could be able to find the exact like... formula for a line on the graph, but said you wait till like 11th or 12th grade to do that, which SHOCKED me. I had learned that... let's see.. last year. Dang. This system is sure... weird. I'm glad I'm only doing a year because otherwise I'd be WAY behind.

Check-a this video out:




And press the left button on your mouse with your pointer finger when your cursor goes over the following pixels: awesome, interesting website (yeah so what I found it from Fly On??) That will keep you on the computer for hours, maybe days. No but it's good trust me.

I'm still amazed at the following things:

1) how taking a break from stuff really changes perspective on stuff
2) how time goes by
3) the school system here
4) me being in France
Wait. What? France? Me? Now? Since when did that monstrosity happen?!?!

Aaaaaand I need to work on that doc. Umentary. What was I going to say next... oh yeah.

Don't try to see yourself like others do
It's no use

But it's your life
and you can decorate it as you like

Ben Folds. And the Five. Never cease to. Kill me with their awesomeness. Which is a good thing. It means they are so magical and excellequent that humans can't... live with it so they die. But they are brought back to life with the awesomeness. (I should start my own personal dictionary.)