There are times when my exterior hardens and I shut my mouth for a change. Well, I shut my mouth in front of you, and then I run home and rant to the roomie. These are the times I embrace the concept of loveshit the most. These are the times that I'm the most stressed and feel the most overworked. These are the times I feel the most alone.

My closest friends can tell when these times are coming on. I must give out pessimistic bitchy vibes or maybe it's the edge they hear. Friends like Janie and Nadia, and those other smart kids, find some way to reach out to me, to pull me back to myself. When they see me try harder to slip, they pull me back stronger. I miss them so much right now.

This song, Question by the Old 97's, does the most evil thing to me - it fills me with hope and want. Sometimes I forget I grew up on romantic ideals. Sometimes I forget exactly how greatly I want to see others happy. This song pulls at my stupid little heart strings and throws away all the meaning behind loveshit. If someone played this song on repeat all night long I might just erase the term loveshit from my vocabulary.

Now I want. I want, I want, I want. I want to be the girl in the song. I want my closest girl friends to be that girl. I want to fall in love. I want to see my friends happy. I want more nights filled with soothing rain. I want to hear Charlotte's doggy snores more than just on the occasional weekend home. I want purpose. I want to be that strong pull for my friends.

Love God, Love People.
My new faith motto.

Speaking of faith, I have literally been freaking out (and scaring my lovely relatives) over my Public Relations project. Every idea I had was about as original as a Hollister store. So I took tonight off to relax with my family with the pretense that any moment I would get inspired. I watched a whole movie with my pen in my hand and blank paper on my lap. Afterwards we caught the end of School of Rock and I went and took a shower. And like Zeus appearing in a rain of gold, I thought of my project!!!! Needless to say I did my happy dance. After the shower, obviously, since I have no coordination skills and would have slipped in the tub.

Now it's time to do the actual work and I'm pumped.
Thank the Lord! (I think the more tired I am, the more I sound like my mother. Eek.)

Okkervil River has an intensity like most my muses. Something about the band lightens up my face and makes my lips move in small, synchronized movements. My fingers twitch and my eyes fly left then right. A movie flickers onto my inner screen and I see life through a different person's eyes. I'm him or I'm her and I'm immersed in their feeling and ideas, wants and needs.

I'm shy to admit it, but if there is going to be any hope of me contributing productively to a creative writing reunion, I'm going to have to open up about my own writing process.
So this is my process. I blog because it stirs my thoughts. Any form of free form writing sifts my thoughts and feelings and pulls out all of my cravings to write something of significance.

I play a band or watch a movie or read a book that affects me so much as to cause the film to turn and the screen to fill with images. It repeats over and over again in my head and I feebly try to put sound to the images. The soundtrack of the music flows overhead and I stop talking and start feeling. I swim around in a river of emotions, kicking a leg towards the tributaries of confusion and purpose, only to backstroke down the middle listening to the swell of my own heart.
I dwell on relationships and how they build a character. How families mold a character and friendships twist and turn the mold into a friend or an outcast. How love gets in the way and does its own damage on people. I think of all of this and then I ask myself, how loved is this person? At the center of our being, at the end of the day when we achieve our success or learn from our failures, we want one thing more than ever. Love. We wants someone to share our successes with or we want someone we love to help us through the harder times. Love is the reason behind the slightest, unexplainable actions.

My muses get me through all of this. They drag me through this long drawn out process, granting me hope and fulfilling my curiosity, and then ever so slowly they lead me out back into reality so that my own life doesn't fail in comparison to my imagination.

This newest muse, where ever it may lead me, fosters my passion and pursuit. I am thankful to one person, for opening my eyes and ears to this band. I am regretful of whatever has happened to the possibility of a friendship, but am ever so grateful for this one inspiring gift. Whatever this blossoms in my writings, I owe that to you. Thank you.

Labels: Best of Libellus

Fix It by Ryan Adams
Lindsay can dwell on my ability to, like Mary, choose the worst song on the new album. But that's okay, because Ryan told me he would fix it, and right now I need him to fix this nightmare that I'm in.

Phantom Planet has officially broken up. With no hopes of future tours or future albums, or future blog videos. Phantom Planet with whom Haley and I went on a date with. Phantom Planet, the band that tried to poison me with a delectable apple. Phantom Planet whom I talked venue sizes with as if we all wanted more tours.

Even my mother acted sad, for thirty seconds. Alex, Darren, Jeff, Sam - thirty seconds is a lot of time for my mother to spend not hollering at me. Why couldn't we have had a party first? Alex can dance and get rug burn and Jeff can poison Mary, and Darren can make art in the art corner of my room, and Sam can have a beer with Haley.

If you had let us, we would have thrown the lamest attempt at the best going away party ever. Now my dreams are forever ruined and I will not slow dance with Darren while faking serious faces or make funny songs about fruit with Alex. Well technically that last one was a dream, so I can still do that one whenever I clean out the fridge.

Fan girls all around the world should be happy that the boys are moving on as strong friends, who simply want to do other things, rather than a torn up love less band. All I ask is you blog individually or jointly at all of your drunken shin-dig reunions. For the broken hearted fans.

I know Thanksgiving is the day of embarrassing Christmas sweaters that give just enough room for you to get fatter in, but Haley, please, wear black tomorrow in memory of the band that brought us together. And because I was already going to wear a stretchy black shirt tomorrow.

And when you sneak your champagne into dinner and tell your family it's just sparkling cider, make a toast to the best blog making band our pathetic little hearts ever loved. To Phantom Planet!

Labels: Haley, Phantom Planet

New obsessions help me procrastinate enough to be named the Queen of Procrastination. That should be a tag line of mine or something. Latest obsession is cutewithchris. This obsession has hit me fast and has racked up significantly more time than facebook stalking friends this week.


Creepy Side Note:
I noticed a glue like substance on my keyboard. That smells like syrup. Attention family, attention! Which one of you ate your drippy pancakes over the keyboard? Could you not spare five seconds to eat it at the table? Knowing my mother, no. Also knowing that my mother had leftover pancakes from IHOP on Sunday and didn't have those pancakes 3 days later leads me to point the finger at her. Shame on you mother bear.


Music Side Note:
I brought some music home and am now stuck listening to the same stuff over and over again. What am I listening to? Well since you asked so kindly...

1) The Teenagers
2) Something Corporate
3) Okkervil River
4) Neutral Milk Hotel
5) Manchester Orchestra
6) Tokyo Police Club
7) Ryan Adams
8) Flight Of The Conchords

Crazy story Haley, I got a bunch of Flight of the Concords stuff a while ago from Red. But it has nothing on watching their live videos with you at 5 in the morning.

Scar Report: What every girl should tell the world if she's still single.....yeah right. Just me.

Bruising on my legs is progressing normally and the chance of an abnormal scar is rare...if I had normal skin. But since my skin glows white in the dark and shines blue under the sun, there could be a definite bluer than normal spot under my left knee. Pictures shall be attached soon to prove that I am in fact, some freak of nature, and not an overly obsessive girl.

My newest scar is this cut/scrape/scab thing on my hand that I have no memory of getting, as always. Since my mother has no apparent belief system in Neosporin, I might get a cool scar on my hand. Thanks mom, for all of your hard work, support for my artistic side, and nonexistent supply of scar reducers to help me lead a normal, fulfilling life.

Actually, I had to beg her to get the first aid kit on top of the extra large box of band aids because I "was going to need all of this stuff some day." For all new friends, some day = twice a week.

Happy Thanksgiving! Eat lots of fatty food and please, as always, gain more weight than me this holiday break!

Labels: college, music appreciation, scars

I'm home and I am not doing a single thing.
I have no idea why I agreed to hang out with almost every group of people I know in Johns Creek when the whole time I have at least 3 things I need to be doing. I am an idiot.

Over the break, you will probably see a lot of additions to this blog. That is because I blog most when I'm procrastinating and I procrastinate most when I have very stressful schedules.
Kinda like the one I have the week we get back from break:

Monday - PR Press Kit due + 2 psych experiments
Tuesday - Stat Test + Psychology project due + Psychology Presentation
Wednesday - Perfect psychology essays
Thursday - Psychology Final
Friday - Psychology experiment

The experiments really aren't that big of a deal and they help me de-stress, but an early final?!?! FULL OF ESSAYS?!?!? Well actually, I do pretty well at essay finals. But still, it's the whole concept.

There's this indie market thing downtown on Saturday and I really want to go. Really really. I'll see if Jenn will go with me, because it's totally worth missing Friday night dinner and spending another night in Athens. I really need downtown daylight fun. I also really need to start studying. Great Friday mindset.

All I want is for this semester to be over so that I can have a dinner outing and/or a weekend poetry/prose session with my Creative Writing group. A bunch of us want it, if nothing else than to inspire us. Haley reminded me that she misses having that safe group of people to share her stuff with to get an open minded opinion. Lindsay misses the girls....I don't think any of us misses Matt all too much, and I most certainly don't think he misses being with all of us artsy people. More than anything I want to hear what they've been working on.

At least I have the newest link to Haley's tumblr. I loved this entry, and I feel like a dork because I was trying to explain a feeling and a setting to describe my character, and you had it all in a blog. You've lived the feeling.

Labels: creative writing, writing, writing group

Cosmo lists this as one of the 10 things you shouldn't say to your man, but um...hello, I have no man, so I'm going to say it to you.

Does this look infected to you?

Some people have seen me hobbling and others have heard about how I knee planted on Monday, but now I have a new procrastination fixation: my knee. I cut it open with the fall and the 2nd day I noticed it was different looking at the top of the wound, and it still hasn't scabbed over. I think it's infected, but it's not like I can pull my skinnies down in public and ask people if they think my knee looks bad...

Latin test Thursday + Tuesday's Latin class cancelled = stress/hell.
Scansion, oh scansion. How soon will it be until I have completely mastered you?
Well, hopefully by tomorrow. With my luck, he's going to choose the passage from the day I was absent, though.

Happier thoughts that remind me of why I have this blog: Love Actually.
Lindsay is okay with me squealing throughout it, so I think we have a serious movie watching future. She also admitted that she doesn't want to spend a week away from me, which shows that I can fake normality for long periods of time. Visiting her in Kennesaw would be nice though, especially if we included Nadia.

And what brightens a limping girl's day more than a Zebra in the middle of the Tate Center. Yes boys and girls, there was a real live zebra, goat, and little kangaroo in the Tate plaza today. It was like waking up and realizing you're actually still dreaming. Zebras, a bit temperamental, but great art subjects.

In other news, today I went shopping, baked brownies, was initiated into Gamma Sigma Sigma (say what you will), and Choo Chooed all the way home.

Memorable events from today:
Trip, trip down the stairs.
Scrape, scrape the shins.
Cut, cut the knee.
Bleed, bleed in my jeans.

Memorable quotes:
"Did you just rip a hole in your jeans?" - H
"Yeah." - Me
"Well that's kinda cool. You ripped your jeans instead of letting the stores do that for you." - M
"Yeah, I'm the only one who makes tears in my jeans, I don't buy them that way." - Me
"Oh." - M

"I'd rather make that bus than wash out my scrapes." -Me (in determination to get off campus)

"Didn't you see me fall?" - Me to M
"No. One moment you were up and the next you were down on the floor." - M
"Ground." - Me
"I saw the whole thing in slow mo. I thought you were going to stop falling and that's when you fell down on your knees." - Haley
"Then why didn't you save me!" - M

Today is one of those final resort days. Like going home and switching to nerdy glasses, taking a nap while icing my legs, and hoping around the apartment instead of the immense pain normal walking gives. I only exaggerate a little, thank you.

I could probably tell my life story through Post Secret postcards. A long while back I did that with a friend, kind of. I'd make up fake addresses only amusing to us, or sometimes just me, and share certain facts that just couldn't be brought up into conversation. It was my way of sharing.

I've been so caught up in dishing out opinions on crushes that I forgot how around certain people I am prone to them. They're never hopeful, it-could-happen crushes, but the pathetic sort on people I could never, or in some cases should never, admit them to.

And now that I'm back to having an unrealistic crush I have to sit and torment myself with that sick giggly sensation and the glowing unexplainable smiles all week long. On the weekends I'll continue to act like I don't like him that way and pretend to act my age in a place where I've never felt my age.

I dare say I give too much away. I dare say you can take it, and run which ever way with it you please.

Neutral Milk Hotel, newest obsession.

The book I'm reading has just presented the situation where the narrator is in New York on 9/11. I can't read it. Now all of a sudden I know who I am and where I am in this story. I'm a little girl in Georgia hearing rumors in the hall. No one will tell me the truth while all my teachers cry. I'm at home and death and destruction are all that I can find on the TV. The poster on my math teacher's door. The flags on people's cars.

I can't pick the book back up. Instead I turned to Neutral Milk Hotel and thought about a horrifying event that I wasn't alive during. Holland, 1945 and Anne Frank, her sister too.

I try to preserve my childhood with The King of Carrot Flowers, Pt. 1 and I feel a little better. I have no happy place that I go to. I let my feelings soak and sink in as I try to drown out my thoughts with music.

Red asked me to make a list.
5 Memories I Want to Always Remember.

1. The day Pap Pap saw my heart and kissed my tattoo. Also the day he saw my tattoo and kissed my heart.

2. My first Kings of Leon concert with 2 of my closest friends. Best gift I could have given them for a Sweet 16.

3. The smell and the feel of being in the dark room and making magic happen.

4. Jennifer. The way she always kept my feet warm when she cuddled up next to me on the couch or when she slept between my legs at night and kicked me with her paws if she was having nightmares. Her doggy smile. The pain that came with losing her.

5. Getting the phone call that I had won at my school level and at county for the PTA's Reflections program.

+1 for good measure:
The cute awkward conversation that established one of my best friendhoods.

For my 50th post, I think Inside of Love is fitting.

Apparently you shouldn't edit your photos and then disagree with your roommates about the upcoming Twilight movie. You'll get cute little Facebook wall posts like this:

"You look like such a catch. What with the angsty "I could be Bella, I'm so melodramatic but also intriguing" profile picture. Keep on writing, girlie!"

Get real. If Bella were a real person she still wouldn't be as clumsy as I am. =]

"Well don't stop calling, you're the reason I love losing sleep."

Red's favorite Manchie song is Sleeper 1972. Mine is Colly Strings.

In fact, it was September of last year that I spent a day with I'm Like A Virgin Losing A Child on repeat and a camera in my hand. It was back when I was too shy to ask any of my friends to model for me but was too passionate to let ideas go to waste. I took a set and named it Partial Focus. I named each picture after Manchester lyrics, mostly Colly Strings. I've only ever shared one with anyone else.

It has a funny story behind it involving lamps and blood and roommate arguments, but it's no big deal anymore.

Last night I had a break through and started working on one of my stories again. The ideas keep coming and I feel as if I'm me again.

To celebrate, Lindsay and I went to the "lake" in my neighborhood and she posed for me. I'm almost out of film, which means it's time to change things up and buy color film. I can't wait to see color in my work.

The best part of today was saying something funny enough to make her laugh and capturing it on film. Now all I want to do is develop. Somebody please, find me a dark room!

Labels: college, dark rooms, Manchester Orchestra, Partial Focus, photography

When I'm with you there's no point in breathing.
- Tie The Rope by The Format

God, I love The Format.
I want to be enlightened, moved, educated, held, loved. I want to be on your porch. I want all the clichés.

Misshapen hearts break daily.
- I doodle hearts. All the time. Everywhere. I can't draw a perfect heart. I never have. When I first got my tattoo I noticed it was slightly crooked. It bothered me until I realized it was perfect. My tattoo is 100% me. It wasn't made perfect and it's a little misshapen, but full of a lot of love. It reminds me of who I am. It keeps me in check.

Je toujours ai mon coeur sur ma manche.

Total irony. Speaking of crushes, When In Rome came on my shuffle.

I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say.
(I promise)
I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be.
(I promise)
But if you'll wait around awhile,
I'll make you fall for me,
I promise you, I promise you...

"I really want a boy. Especially now."

I heard that maybe 5 times last night. It is the new thing on all of my girl friend's minds. Like the November Single Blues or something. Sure it has it's variations - boy, guy, man, lover, girl - but that's all based on how we view ourselves.

The thing about that phrase, is the rant you're supposed to endure after it's spoken, and the obligatory response you're supposed to give. You know, the friendly head nod and a few kind words. Well that's getting on my nerves. Nowadays an obligatory man hating rant either slides itself into the conversation or else you face the ranter's pitiful glance that you've been single longer than them.

"So, are there any new guys in your life?" (Insert girls if you feel the need.)

You get that question from all sides. Parents, siblings, nosy grandparents, hometown neighbors, people you work with, and most especially, your hair dresser. When I got my hair cut this question blind sighted me after a small conversation on little kids trick or treating. Well whatever, it happens everywhere. "No."
My singlehood brings her to sympathize with, "Yeah, there's been a lot of man hating from my female clients lately."
"I'm not a man hater, I just don't feel like I need to bother with all that right now."

Well you can see where this went. Complete silence for close to five minutes.

Say it aint so a-woah-a-woah.
Your drug is a heartbreaker.
Say it aint so a-woah-a-woah.
My love is a life-taker.

I'm reading Love Monkey for the first time, and between it and Weezer all I want is to have a crush. But take it from OK Go, it's tough to have a crush. I want that stupid bubbly feeling and the uncontrollable dreamy smiles. I'm just not ready to join those silly girls who doodle names in their notebooks and drift out of important conversations because something that was said reminded them of their crush. As if.

I think.
I think...
I think I've gone so long being technically single that I do more than just tolerate it. I live it. Most girls, on the other hand, have difficulties adjusting back to their single selves. And that's what annoys me the most about crushes. Just when I get my friends back into the swing of girls nights and remembering that their current boyfriend is not on the top of my conversation charts, well then they go and fall for some other boy whom I'm stuck hearing all about.

I sound like the ultimate loveshit hater. I'm not. I dream lovely dreams too. I just try to dream quietly.

Labels: Best of Libellus, crushes, the single life

Thursdays are pathetic when I convince myself to not go to school.

Plan B was started with going to the Boys & Girls Club. I would barely be there for an hour if I went to Latin. We're getting tests back in Latin and then we're starting a new poem, so I don't feel like the world will end if I don't show up with my translations. So I'm going to help the kids out instead.

Since I'm sitting at home doing nothing, I decided to start catching up on things.
- Statistics homework.
- Laundry.
- Read Psychology Report.
- Start Psychology Project.
- Sign up for Psychology experiments.
- Go to 40watt.com and check out upcoming concerts.
- Clean floor so that people can see floor.
- Clean bathroom.
- Shower in clean bathroom.
- Watch hip hop videos to be as cool as Janie & Aileen.
- Take camera everywhere I go today.

We all know my greatest obsession is not hearts, but even better, great music.
More specifically? Amazingly great live music.

It's no surprise than that my favorite live show is by Kings of Leon.
More specifically? My second KOL show, first time seeing them at the Tabernacle, being in the 3rd-ish row and making constant eye contact with Caleb - for serious. !!! Best live show!

Well I'm in a bit of a sticky situation. KOL released a new album, and it's alright, but it is absolutely perfect to put on and then drive around to. I know it's gonna be even better live, and I want to be there so badly when they come to Atlanta.
Problem: Initiations are that night, and well - it's totally worth it and required to go. The other side is that I would finally be able to go to their after party, which is a decreasing probability, but I have my ways.

Good thing today is Wednesday, the highlight of my week. I stumbled upon this at Fredflare, and it totally fits my tastes.

Then the reason for my sad mood is this video. I actually think it's one of their better videos. Not as good as Wasted Time, but Wasted Time is only the best when you know the story behind it.

Happy Wednesday! Happy change!

I went to my polling location today and did a little happy dance. There was absolutely no line! I walked in, I cast my ballot, I voted.

After I moved to Georgia, all I wanted was to move back to DC. Eh, and maybe to seem cool and fit in. Every birthday wish was to move back to Virginia. When the phone was for me, I hoped it was one of my friends from home. Middle school was the worst. By high school I realized that I liked living in Georgia a lot more. I never admitted it to anyone, but I was more content. With the weather, with my family, with the town I lived in.

But from whatever age I developed an interest in voting, I've known one thing will always aggravate me about Georgia. No, not the humidity, because let's face it, it's my number 1 fall back excuse. (Hair looks like crap? It's the humidity, not that I didn't do anything to it, etc etc) What aggravates me the most is that when I vote with my party, in Georgia, it's just a wasted vote. Every once and a while I'll see my party win something small, but when do I get to contribute to it winning something big?

At the same, every person I voted for who wasn't in my party? Oh yeah, they made it.

DANCE PARTY NEWS FLASH:

There will be Arcade Fire playing. Learn how to dance to it, or else.

Time and Date to follow. A Flashmob would be kinda fun in the dance party setting, but I'm thinking we'll probably stick to a warm apartment. Hip parking lot suggestions are always welcome.

Others to expect: Crystal Castles, MGMT, Tilly and the Wall, and maybe even some old school 90's music like Destiny's Child, Beyonce, and Britney Spears because you know how much I love to teach people the Beyonce booty shake. If you hate any of these with a passion I can retract them, but I'm ready to throw away my dislike for current radio tunes for a good beat and the bust of a move.

Unicorn costumes are welcomed warmly, Haley.

Kennesaw was intensely awesome! (I'm totally great at opening lines...)

Seeing Nadia was a dream come true. It was really hard watching her struggle with her happiness so much last year, and I am amazed by her transformation into this school year. While UGA's acting program put her through hell and continuously disappointed her, at Kennesaw she's taking acting classes that she needs and wants, and she gets to take some chorus classes too. I'm so happy for this because when I met her her fun fact was that she could sing Italian opera, and then I never saw her happy enough to sing.

As much as I love to see her blossom, a part of me wants to spend all of my free moments with her. It's an experience and a feeling that Athens is really lacking on right now. I liked being able to do my Scooby doo/baby bulldog bark and get her little meow response. It sounds weird, but it's what normal is to me. We act more like sisters in public than I do with my sister, and every time she calls me her sister and tells me that I'm part of her family, I feel so blessed to have someone like that.

So of course her friends are awesome as well. We all had a lot of fun and I brought Red with me...well that certainly stirred the pot. She got voted Most Bangable in our costume contest and was certainly a spark in the life of the party. The next morning most of us, sans Red, were sitting on the futon in the closet laughing and having a good time looking at pictures and I had a revelation!

Nadia's group of friends from home is like 90210. Nadia and Nancy are Kelly & Donna, the guys are the guys, and I'm the new girl Brenda, before she became such a huge bitch.

I came home to a warm bed, a disappointing Georgia game, and dinner with the fam & Leslie. I miss being around her. We came back to my house and watched Center Stage 2 and now I'm looking for my leotard and slippers. I really wish I could get in shape enough to dance like I used to, but just watching the movie inspired to me to practice again. I think next semester I'll take Ballet as a PE class. I love the idea of walking around Athens in my tights and leotard, with the appropriate layers, and my hair still up in a bun. Dressing the part is the definite way to set the mood.