i love

1) lurking people's myspaces
2) waking up at one
3) playing the Sims 2
4) kissing Jonah
5) taking really ugly pictures and putting them on the internet
6) dreaming about Scott Biggi
7) photobooths
8) doing public woohoo in photobooths with at least three different sims
9) playing and making music with other people
10) Christian Bale
11) California
12) tropical diseases
13) having to poo
14) making friends
15) learning how to play the drums
16) reading my Bible
17) Broken Social Scene
18) being home alone
19) finger picking
20) Sarah, Harlan, Waylon, Jesse, Joel, and Tori, because they make Spring Hill so much better.


There. Isn't that better?
Jonah is my dog by the way, and yes, we kiss a LOT.

BODY OVER MIND

Physical pain is something I definitely prefer to all other types of pain.
Physical pain distracts me long enough. I cherish my times of discomfort because it keeps my mind occupied.
So thank you, aching arms and blistered fingers, searing headaches and churning guts, bruised crevices and open sores, guitar strings and sharp corners, stainless steel and butane, sparking synapses and empty stomachs, and all tumors that have yet to be discovered, speak now or forever hold your peace. Because of you, I have not completely lost my mind. Being in constant pain has kept me in touch with reality.
Whichever naysayer is bold enough to disapprove of hypochondria obviously hasn't given it a shot, because it really works for me. Try it out. As they say, it's better to be sick than sorry.
And by sorry, I don't mean apologetic.

I'm starting to feel like maybe if I was openly crazy, people would get off my back. But since I appreciate societal standards and try to abide by them, I'm still expected to function with some level of normality. It seems like pulling the depressed card gets you out of jail free. I wish I could just tell everyone, hey, no, actually, I'm NOT going to do that because I'm a sociopath drug addict suffering from school age schizophrenia. Or maybe I can give the short version of how I hate everything about every aspect of my life, so fuck you.

Yes, I'm real mature for my age, I pay bills and do the shopping and shit. And by that I mean I lie in bed and play the Sims 2 and hope that my brain will start bleeding.

Loyal readers, I promise that one day, these blogs will start looking up. Until then, my room is a mess, I have two friends, no job, no money, no hobbies, I can't drive, and my curfew is 12 o clock until further notice

an assortment of good things

1) I need new guitar strings. I'm starting to get depressed about it.
2) Who wants to go to Miami in March? We will be seeing
-Death Cab
-Lucero
-Cold War Kids
-Snoop Dogg
but more importantly, Broken Social Scene. Which is really the only reason I want to go, but you know, I would go anywhere in this state for them if I was able.
3) Also, be on the look out for a music myspace coming from me and my associates. We're really punk.
4) Tough night last night for these people:







and one of my regular Circle K customers


5) I think I love every instrument ever created ever I am in love.
6) I love everybody. You're all beautiful.

the only men i love.

Hanson, always and forever.


Matt Damon with a Boston accent circa Good Will Hunting.


Liam Neeson.


Kevin Drew, the musician who knows me better than anyone without ever knowing I exist.


My newest love, Michael C. Hall, but only as a secret serial killer.


Gary Oldman in every shape and form he has ever been in.


Seth Rogan, the epitome of my dream guy.

My Hypotheses--The Science of Self-Awareness: Part I

Hypothesis 1) If I can access my conscious mind while I sleep, then I can control my dreams.
Dreams exist, and I'm going to prove it.
I discovered this in a paralytic state of reality a couple of nights ago. I reached it on accident, as I was dreaming normally, but then something happened where it got to the point that this was undeniably real, and that I was, indeed, conscious, although no longer in my usual third dimension. It is rather indescribable, but now I'm going to devote the rest of my life to the research and study of dreams. If anyone could volunteer to be a couple of test subjects, it would be greatly appreciated. I, myself, am planning on revisiting the comatose state I was in previously, if the circumstances are fitting and the timing is just right. There I discovered an alternate existence that is very real and can possibly be controlled if I play my cards right. It is going to be dangerous. If I appear dead, don't panic, I am only paralyzed. However, if I am dead, don't go blaming it on anything supernatural. For once, this is strictly science, and at times, there are casualties for the greater good of discovery. Know that I did not die in vain.
Hypothesis 2) If I am stuck puking in Hernando County, then God must have had good reason to bring me here. I've developed four possible solutions to why God brought a girl like me to a town like this, and they are:
a) to see how long it would take before I shoot myself in the face
b) to see how long it would take before someone else shoots me in the face
c) to see how long it would take before I get off my ass and actually try to do something with my life, which in turn challenges me and tests my faith.
d) to mess with me simply because he finds me rather annoying, and I ask for too many snakes.(you know, if a son asks a father for bread, would he in turn give him a snake? But sometimes, we ask our father for snakes, and of course, in turn, he gives us nothing.)
Now, knowing the nature and character of God, I am inclined to choose option C as the most likely explanation. Although, I would have chosen C anyway, because I'm horrible at multiple choice, and that's usually your best bet. However, you never really know. So on the off chance that God's plans can be summed up in these four bullet points, which they can't, there is a 75% likelihood that I am shit out of luck.
Hypothesis 3) I've come to the conclusion that people really don't give two shits about you, or me. Nobody cares. This hypothesis can easily be proven. Although, I should probably put it in the correct sentence structure:
IF people are so concerned with their own personal contributions to society, and their own problems, THEN they really don't give two shits about you, or me. So basically, don't bother.
Like I said, I can prove this easily.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a second? It's kind of important"
"No, not right now, I'm busy stacking these papers."
Any questions?
Hypothesis 4) If I do not become a writer, then I will be making a serious mistake. I HAVE to write for my profession. I just have to do it. If I do not write, I will will ruin my life. Now, I know YOU GUYS have no interest in anything I have to say, but that's because you know me and you have your biases, so it doesn't really matter to you. You can picture me typing away alone in my bedroom in complete darkness except for the glow of my computer screen, and it probably turns you off. Hey, I understand. But I think there are people out there who WILL give a shit about what I write, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to find them.
Because I've been sitting here for weeks now, and I've realized there is simply nothing else I would ever want to do ever, and nothing else I have ever wanted to do since the time I was five years old. When I am writing, it is the only time I feel completely at peace with myself (not counting spiritual experiences, obviously, although in a lot of ways, writing IS a spiritual experience for me). It makes me happier and is really the only worldly thing that can satisfy me at all. It is really all that I am. And I'm going to do it even if it kills me.
So haters, speak up now, so I can remember to NOT thank you when I'm on Oprah.

okay BSS

So last night was great. I tried to remember the exact order of the songs, but of course, I forgot I have too many holes in my brain to even consider having good sequence memorization. However, I remember most of the songs, and how they played them.
It was outside, which was really cool, and I liked it so much better that it was. The weather was perfect, kinda cold, but a lot of bodies so it felt fine. Land of Talk was the opening band. They're from Quebec, and pretty good. I liked them because it was just pure indie rock, but modernized of course (take note, Guided by Voices, you are boring us new millieniumz all to death). I liked her voice it was sweet but haunting IF YOU WILL. Anyways, nobody cares about Land of Talk, you think, however, they were there not only to open but to support Broken Social. So you had the guitarist there playing guitar from BSS, and he was really good, definitely gets his funk on. And the singer also played guitar and, of course, sang all the necessary girl songs.
Other guests included Andrew Whiteman, who is from Apostle of Hustle, but also helped make You Forgot it in People and was in Bourbon Tabernacle Choir back in the late eighties/early nineties. He is an amazing guitarist and great vocalist, but he's a kinda creepy guy in general. The other guest was, I THINK it was Charles, from Do Make Say Think playing guitar and trumpet. I'm not sure who they had playing the saxophone, but I'm pretty sure they were both at the Filmore last year. They are all Canadians, of course, bless their souls, nothing like Canadian music, I'm telling you.
Alright, so moving on...
They opened with Late Nineties Bedroom Rock for the Missionaries, and then Shampoo Suicide, which was cute since that was the album order. They actually played a lot of good You Forgot it in People songs. KC Accidental, which is always an epic song. Looks Just Like the Sun, which Andrew Whiteman sang obviously. They played Anthem for a Seventeen-Year Old Girl. Towards the end they played Cause=Time, and in the encore they played Stars and Sons.
So amazing, like REALLY. They are the best songs off of that album, really, except no Lover's Spit, or I'm Still Your Fag, but I'm sure they're sick of those.
Nothing from Feel Good Lost, those are a little TOO relaxing, all though I wouldn't have minded some Passport Radio.
From the Broken Social Scene album, they played 7/4 Shoreline and Fire Eye'd Boy towards the beginning. They also played Superconnected and It's All Gonna Break. But the best was Major Label Debut, that song is always so much fun. And, of course, IBI DREAMS OF PAVEMENT was the final final finale, which they involved the crowd, who all screamed at the exact same timing as the horns go off in the end. It was perfect.
They also played newer songs from Brendan Canning, which were Churches Under the Stairs, Hit the Wall, and Love is All. Good songs, definitely funkier. They also played two of Kevin Drew's songs, Farewell to the Pressure Kids, and Fucked Up Kid. I do like Brendan's solo stuff better than Kevin's, but you can definitely see how both of their styles make Broken Social Scene.
Justin Peroff, the drummer, was too, too good, and really, the band would be NOTHING without this guy, because he really makes it. Of course, all the guitarists are incredible, and Brendan is off the chain on the bass. But they all mixed up their instruments, and everyone played at least two different things the whole night. One minute Kevin was playing drums, and Brendan was playing an SG, and then the lead singer from Land of Talk was playing drummers, and Kevin was the on the keyboard, and Charles put down the guitar to play the trumpet.
It was a pretty long set for the most part, but I had no complaints. I could have listen to them for five hours straight. I love them so much. The show had the best energy, and the music was perfect. They always make slight changes, but I always want to hear how they play it differently, because it's still a good sound, just new. And everyone was enjoying it and moving, because really, you just can't not enjoy yourself when they're playing. They are too amazing, they are too good at what they do, and really, I hope they never stop.
If I am in love with anything or anyone, it is this band, and I cannot WAIT to see them again.
Also, I St. Petersburg reminds me of a Floridian San Jose. I liked it.
And that is all! I feel like I have so much more to say about it, because it's just one of those experiences that really mess with me, in a good way. I am sad that it is over.