Saturday, June 28, 2008

Relationships, Part One

"Stay your adorable self forever--don't ever change!"

Those words grace the back of my eighth grade yearbook. I've heard that statement (or something similar) countless times over the past few years as I've navigated through my high school years.

But when you really care about someone, you are willing to change for them. Willing to let the not-so-adorable parts of you go. Willing to be what they need, not what you need.

There is no greater love than this: that you would lay down your life for your friend.

Most of us will never even come close to having to physically give up our own life for the sake of a friend. But life is so much more than that, eh? It's your desires, your needs, your ideas.
So in a way, it's alright to change for someone by putting them first.

I had a real-life lesson in this this past week. I refuse to name names, but someone I care about deeply hit a rough patch, and learning how to deal with it has been hard for both of us. After thinking about it for a couple of days, I came to a conclusion. I told him I'll be what he needs me to be right now. And what he needs is something that's a little difficult for me to be. But hell. Love is sacrifice.

Very Funny

Haha, Lizzie. You got me.

I give up. xD

But that actually brings up something I've been pondering for a while. Is it "as __ as I" or "as __ as me"?

In one sense you're dropping the verb at the end of the statement, like so: "As __ as I [am]." In another sense "as" is a preposition, which means you use the objective case of the pronoun.

I have no life.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Face Paint and the Grammar Nazi

I love how every summer, the same rumor starts to circulate.
It's compounded now by my popularity amongst local students. (I have groupies, and it's scary.)

FYI, I'm still single. And so is he. And we plan to stay that way.
But I learned that he loves to write and is a Grammar Nazi like me.

So today the SC handed down a ruling that made me smile. They ruled against the 32-year-old ban on gun ownership in D.C., among other things. They declared the Second Amendment to be somewhat untouchable when it comes to legislation. Guns don't kill people. People kill people. Of course, we shouldn't be putting guns in the hands of criminals and psychopaths, but everyday citizens have the explicit constitutional right to bear arms. And don't give me any of that "But it's a living and breathing document!" crap. Words do not change. The need for self-defense does not change, either.

I'm proud of you, Scalia. So proud.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Lyd called me last night. Apparently Dan is sending me a bottle of Teflon....?
But what the hell. I accept any and all gifts.

Besides, I joke about my Teflon suit all the time. Reagan was the Teflon prez, and Gotti was the Teflon Don. So I'll just be the Teflon Flautist, I guess.

Tomorrow's the first day of Wild Week.

More later, after rehearsal.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

I love my best friend. Well, I love all of them, but right now I love one in particular.

Today I was dragged around to a bajillion stores that I positively hate. Thank God for my iPod. And for Alicia Keys. She pretty much saved my life today when I was about to die of boredom.

There's a Degrassi marathon on, but I can't handle any more drama. Besides, I have my very own real-life Spinner, Paige, Marco, JT, and such.

I know I've been promising to post something meaningful, but I just can't bring myself to think of something profound. Oh well. Philosophical crap is for losers. xD

Friday, June 20, 2008

When I Leave

I talked to Lydia today (tonight?). And Dan. But he interrupted and only insulted me, so that doesn't count as a conversation.

My parents and I had yet another college talk today. Eww.


When I leave for college, I'm packing you in my suitcase and taking you with me.


I'll post some meaningful stuff tomorrow. Maybe.

Oy Vey

Oh, *insert string of expletives here* (I censor myself because some of my readers might be offended and hurt me if I didn't.)

Life just threw me a curveball. Correction: someone in my life just threw me a curveball. Signed, sealed, and delivered. Half of it was good; the other half was.....difficcult, but not bad, per se.

I have to say I told you so to this person, though. Despite what they may think, they're not always right.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Finally!



Peekaboo!

I found these sweet purple and black arm warmers.
I'm so fugly. xD

So today I finally (FINALLY!) convinced my mom to let me get another piercing. Currently I only have the standard holes in each ear (only one in each =[). I've been asking for something else for a looong time, and today she finally gave in.

I mean, Sarah (my sister) had a tat and a tongue ring by the time she was my age, so it's only fair that I get something too. I'm thinking about maybe just putting a couple more holes in each ear, but I'd love a lip ring.

Punkster, my hands are smallish. So. Just make them small. And I'd like red and black fabric, if at all possible. Thankee sooo much.

I still think he was just being humorous, though. I think that maybe you;re just making it into a tad too big of a deal. Sort of like they do in the media--"Oh my god guess what so and so said!" Just...take everything with a grain of salt and give everyone the benefit of the doubt, mkay? He's said it himself: sometimes things don't come out right; sometimes he crosses the line without intending to. Either way, I don't think it's such a huge deal.




Capital hills and lowercase people

Blogging has now halfway replaced my journal. It's kind of nicer; I don't have to hide my blog like I hide my journal.
I still use my journal for songwriting and letters and stuff.



I know all about you now;
It's been a long road all around.


Custom Wristwarmers?

Yes, please, Talia! Can they be here by Monday or Tuesdayish? How much are theyyy?

And I do believe the rabbits thing was an attempt at humor. I, for one, find it hysterical and true, considering all the PETA "animals have feelings too!" crap.

Don't get me wrong; I'm all for the humane treatment of animals. However, we shouldn't elevate them so much that we treat them better than we treat our fellow human beings. There has to be some distinction. Wasn't there some song about that, one that said something like " we save the trees/but kill the children?"

I'd rather not elucidate on those, Punky. I don't think it's worth getting everyone all riled up over. But I will say this: Obama is like a meringue cookie. You think there's something there, but in the end it turns out to be mostly air.

And I know...I spell a lot of things wrong. How I managed to win the spelling bee four consecutive times, I can only wonder.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

The Producers

I'm working on a list of dream producers. None of my songs will probably ever see daylight, much less a recording studio (other than my own really shabby one), but it's fun.

The list is pretty eclectic so far. I won't reveal it, though, although Steffi and Cyd already know who's on it.

My condolences to anyone who is dying to see it. I may eugoogolize you after you have passed away. (If you don't get that somewhat witty movie reference, you suck. The question is: do you swallow? You may excommunicate me now for being a small bit of a perv.)

I saw a disturbing commercial today. "The question is: when you turn your car on, does it return the favor?"
If you are being sexually aroused by a machine, you either have a wickedly odd fetish (and maybe a power complex) or you're a fugly bitch who has no life.

I am way too addicted to blogging now.

We are gathered here today....

...to mourn the loss of Drew's mouthbrow.

Not.

We (whoever "we" consists of; it might just be my multiple personalities and I) are, however, gathered here to read another post of mine, and perhaps to leave some comments.

Subtle I am not.

I found another freaky Manson/RK coincidence. "I'm really starting to despise beautiful people," sings Matty T. in that same song where he blasts Manson. Now, is he saying he despises the girlfriend mentioned in the song (who is presumably beautiful), or is he expressing his dislike of Manson's song, The Beautiful People?

I also found two SF lines that cancel each other out.
"Souls aren't built of stones..." --4:12
"...where the stones are built of souls..."--Rebuild
So souls aren't built of stones, but stones are built of souls?
Isn't that like "I have my mind on my money and my money on my mind"? Y'know, the same thing?

Currently listening to: Eriatarka--The Mars Volta

Yeah. Today my only company was my iPod, soooo.......music is really all I have to say.
If you were expecting some fantastically outrageous and profound commentary on society, politics, or the human condition, you'll have to wait till tomorrow at least. Unless you want to explore the Mars Hill site and watch the vodcast.

http://www.marshillchurch.org/

Warning: not for the close-minded, whether you're a die-hard atheist or a fundamentalist Christian nut.

I have to say, Mark Driscoll is brilliant. I'm...not too fond of organized religion as whole, though I am a believer. It carries such negative connotations and has built such a bad reputation for itself. It's strayed so much from what it was supposed to be. I guess that's the price of being comprised of imperfect humans.

But Mars Hill is fab. It's doctrinally conservative but culturally liberal. (That means it's all chain-smoking, college-age Seattlites who don't wake up till 9 PM and go to HempFest. Speaking of which, Mark Driscoll hung out at HempFest once or twice...)

So yeah. Go check it out, even if you aren't spiritually inclined. Not trying to convince or convert; just sharing some food for thought.

By the way, I totally blame Jessica for the huge storms on Saturday. She did this freaky rain dance, so I think it's all her fault. She is such a pagan. WE decided a while back that if we weren't Christians, we'd be Wiccans. That's probably blasphemous or something.



Black and white, red and blue; I think that I look good on you.

Oh, jeez. It's less than a week till Wild Week....and I still have to get all my stuff together.
How come I'm so shy in person and so....freakishly bold on stage?

o.O We're doing a cover of Dani California one of the nights. Which inspired me to start re-reading Scar Tissue. It's a pretty sweet book. I'm not....enthraleld by the other covers, though. Oh! Gravity is alright, I guess, but I hate Buddy Holly. I wanted to do I Wanna Be Sedated, but...that's not happening.

I'm tossing around the idea of wearing a different hat each night. The red one Danielle gave me is a definite, and I'm picking up a new fedora tonight. I also have this purple newsboy cap that I adore. Aaaand I have fab new eye makeup from MAC. Loverly purple and gold shadows and stuff.

But I lost my fingerless gloves, and my arm warmers are torn to shreds (thanks, Adrian). Not cool.

(I love how I have this totally different persona on stage. I get away with so much crap that I would never dream of doing in real life.)

Other than plotting out cool clothing ideas, life is dull. I went out on my roof last night and looked at the stars. (Which, of course, made me think of Jono, and that made me remember to buy a new blackpinstripedfedora.) I found all of Ursa Major for the first time in my life. The moon was full, and these thin clouds started to roll in. It was all very surreal and had this stange beauty about it.

More later. Maybe.

Last Post, I Promise

This'lll be my last post on Manson...for now, at least. And this one is in response to a comment someone left.

"Hmmm....you use his quote about Columbine...but is he really blaming us for their terrible actions? Like, he is saying we didn't listen, so they had to shoot a bunch of people at school in order to make the world know they should have listened. Isn't he assuming the [world] is at fault? This statement reeks of the "it's everyones fault but the people who actually committed the crime" philospohy...can you defend against this charge?"


I would agree that the world is partially to blame for Columbine. True, the shooters are 100% responsible for their actions that day. However, I believe that, as with any action, there are underlying causes. Now, I don't know a ton about the Columbine massacre, but I would assume the shooters were driven by hate, anger, and perhaps hopelessness. The way our high school social culture works probably had a lot to do with that. The way we as a society treat certain people sucks. So yeah, I would say that society did partially cause them to take such drastic action. This isn't just true in regards to Columbine; it's true when it comes to things like suicide, self-injury, and other destructive behaviors. I'll leave you with this:

No one sits with him, he doesn't fit in
But we feel like we do when we make fun of him
Cause you want to belong--do you go along?
Cause his pain is the price paid for you to belong.
It's not like you hate him or want him to die,
But maybe he goes home and thinks suicide
Or he comes back to school with a gun at his side
Any kindness from you might have saved his life.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Recovery

I've finally recovered enough to blog about my traumatic experience in my hometown of NYC.

Saturday morning I was washing cars for a Philly/Burkina Faso trip fundraiser. My mom called me and asked if I was still interested in going to my best friend's graduation in the city. I said,"Sure thing!"
Half an hour later we were on our way. WE made amazing time on the NJ Turnpike; it took us only an hour and a half to get from PA to Brooklyn. But then everything took a disastrous turn for the worse.

The Belt Parkway was backed up for miles, and the news station said absolutely nothing about it. We got off and tried driving down Ocean AVe. , but THAT was a zoo, too. Eastern Parkway was horrendous, and the Grand Central was hell on earth. My dad refused to put the AC on, and it was humid beyond humid. I had to change in the backseat of the car....and I still missed Teressa's ceremony. I made it to Jessica and Richie's, but the trouble wasn't over....

It started to storm. hail, thunder, lightening, torrential rain, you name it. I got soaked...and I was wearing a white skirt.

It was the worst trip of my life.

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6n5Oi4714o

I feel like I should clarify some stuff about my last post. Watch this video--it answers a lot of the questions I expect from people.

Manson is surprisingly well-spoken and very, very intelligent. He's writing and directing a film about Lewis Carroll, and he is so well-read. And yes, he has a normal voice. xD He's not a Satanist, either. Truth is, he had a poor experience with Christians growing up: a lot of hypocrisy, religion, and doomsday stuff. (They made him watch A Thief in the Night in grade school. I'm pretty sure that constitutes torture.) He's a fantastic painter and writer. He has a fabulous relationship with his parents. He knows what's wrong with our culture, and he speaks up about it. He doesn't use a lot of profanity when he speaks. He's also hysterically funny.

Basically, I don't think he's as horrible as most people make him out to be. He's probably nicer than most believers I know. Which is so depressing.

Anyhow. More later.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Help! I'm being eaten!

It is only fitting that on Friday the 13th, I would fall in love with Marilyn Manson's music.
My new love stems from some conversations about wedding dresses that I had with Steffi. I saw Manson and Dita von Teese's wedding picture (her dress was this gorgeous purpley-blue affair, and the wedding was in a freakin' castle, complete with falconry) and started to wonder what his music was like. So I LimeWired him and gave his stuff a spin on my iPod.

That's where the title of this post comes in. A band that I like somewhat has a song that states, "Marilyn Manson ate my girlfriend/Satan consumed her mind/And he may do it again." (Coincidentally, Manson's latest release is titled Eat Me, Drink Me. xD) Don't worry--he is not feasting on my mind; instead, I'm feasting on his music. It was rather ironic, actually. Yesterday, on the way up to NYC, my dad had a Smitty CD playing in the car. Meanwhile, I was listening to Manson on my iPod. xD So ironic.

I'm expecting some criticism and stuff from my Christian peers.

I know, I know, I know.

He's freaky looking and has some....interesting ideas.

But the guy is talented. Really, really talented, both lyrically and musically.

Some of his lyrics are disturbing, I admit. But one should view them through a certain lense. If we compare Manson's work to that of Poe, Whitman, or Dickinson, his lyrics aren't all that troubling. The language is different, true; the basic prinicples are very similar. Also, you have to understand that he's pretty much just an attention whore. He wants to make waves and stir things up. That's what's behind his crazy antics; if we didn't give a crap about them, he'd probably stop. xD

Also, I've always been totally blown away by his appearance in Bowling for Columbine. When asked what he would say to the Columbine shooters if he had a chance to talk to them, Manson replied, "I wouldn't say a single word to them; I would listen to what they have to say, and that's what no one did." The enormity of this statement is indescribable. It's so...powerful that I don't know how to begin explaining it. So I'll just let you think about that for awhile.

I also love his political views. "...I refuse to vote, because if I have to align myself with any party, I'd come closest to a Libertarian, but I don't think I can call myself anything."

He's all about changing the way our culture works--defying the consumerism and the weird suburbanite conformity. Which is really what I, as a Christian, feel led to do.

Maybe I'm just a sucker for guys with eyeliner.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Day Two

Steffi made me join a new forum. As much as I love posting on boards and such, I strongly dislike joining new ones.

Ahh, well.

I have nothing meaningful to say.

Laterrr.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Day One

Two of my best friends left this morning for Portland. And they're not coming back.
And it's summer, so I'm left with hardly anything to do.

I think I'll be tackling the summer day-by-day.

There are addresses and phone numbers pinned on my bulletin board now, alongside my normal reminders of things I need to do. I've had long-distance friends before, sure, but never this long-distance. Thankfully plane tickets aren't that hard to get. But it'll still be a while before I see them again. Boo.

But back to today.

I'm going to be doing relatively nothing--sunning myself, listening to my iPod, and possibly going to Whole Foods later.

Oh, I lead such a small life.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Culture

This is possibly the most brilliant explanation of Christianity and culture and the difference between the sacred and the secular that I have ever heard.

"To be honest, this question grieves me because I feel that it represents a much bigger issue than simply a couple SF tunes. In true Socratic form, let me ask you a few questions: Does Lewis or Tolkien mention Christ in any of their fictional series? Are Bach's sonatas Christian? What is more Christ-like: feeding the poor, making furniture, cleaning bathrooms, or painting a sunset? There is a schism between the sacred and the secular in all of our modern minds. The view that a pastor is more “Christian” than a girls volleyball coach is flawed and heretical. The stance that a worship leader is more spiritual than a janitor is condescending and flawed. These different callings and purposes further demonstrate God’s sovereignty. Many songs are worthy of being written. Switchfoot will write some; Keith Green, Bach, and perhaps you have written others. Some of these songs are about redemption, others about the sunrise, others about nothing in particular: written for the simple joy of music. None of these songs has been born again, and to that end there is no such thing as Christian music. No. Christ didn’t come and die for my songs, he came for me. Yes. My songs are a part of my life. But judging from scripture I can only conclude that our God is much more interested in how I treat the poor and the broken and the hungry than the personal pronouns I use when I sing. I am a believer. Many of these songs talk about this belief. An obligation to say this or do that does not sound like the glorious freedom that Christ died to afford me. I do have an obligation, however, a debt that cannot be settled by my lyrical decisions. My life will be judged by my obedience, not my ability to confine my lyrics to this box or that. We all have a different calling; Switchfoot is trying to be obedient to who we are called to be. We’re not trying to be Audio A or U2 or POD or Bach: we’re trying to be Switchfoot. You see, a song that has the words: “Jesus Christ” is no more or less “Christian” than an instrumental piece. (I've heard lots of people say Jesus Christ and they weren't talking about their redeemer.) You see, Jesus didn’t die for any of my tunes. So there is no hierarchy of life or songs or occupation only obedience. We have a call to take up our cross and follow. We can be sure that these roads will be different for all of us. Just as you have one body and every part has a different function, so in Christ we who are many form one body and each of us belongs to all the others. Please be slow to judge “brothers” who have a different calling." ---Jono

Some Stats

Alright. I'm going on a missions trip this summer to Philly, which is only three miles away from my house. I've been asked a lot of questions about it lately, most of which sound like this: "Why Philly? I mean, you might as well just stay home and sleep all day."

Here's a short recap of why:

The average SAT score in Philadelphia is 800...out of a possible 2400. That's the lowest score possible.
24.5% of Philly residents live below the poverty line.
There are an estimated 7,000 homeless people living in Center City.
Philadelphia has the highest murder rate in the nation.
Many are employed but are part of the "working poor;" that is, they have jobs but they are entry-level or minimum-wage positions. Due to the poor educational system, many cannot advance in the workplace.


Does this sound right? Does this bother you?
It should.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for Him.

"The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Luke 4:18-19)

Be the change.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Work in Progress

So I'm working on a song about a friend and me. The music is coming along nicely, but here's the lyrics I have down so far. I'm going to scrap and rewrite and stuff. I promise.

Moonbeams and Shadows

And you said, "I'll drive you to the moon
'Cause you're too old, too old for fantasies."
And someday, someday you'll get the best of me.
And you said, "The day is coming soon
When life will, life will break our reveries;
Life will be just memories."

And there are shadows on your face
Breaking into my space
Hard look, wrong time, wrong place;
Right now, right here, black trace.
Don't leave me less than amazed
Don't leave a bitter taste.

If there's one in the world, and you're in my hand
C'mon, child, don't act or pretend;
Stop flailing your arms, just reach out your hand
Grab onto mine--yes, that's the plan.
Get in the car and park in the trees;
Don't you dare go--don't want you to leave.




Suckish Poetry by Me

Lame Love Poem No. 1

Oh, to see you was to behold the heavens
In all their splendiforous glory;
And to know you was to understand the universe
In its deepened intricacy.
Love, to find you was to unearth a great treasure
With its shimmering wealth and wonder.
And oh, to hold you was to fill the recesses of my soul,
To smooth its jagged edges.
To love you was to sacrifice my heart
On the alter of longsuffering.
To forgive you, darling, was to ignore my conscience
In favor of my turbulent mind.
But to lose you, love?
To watch you leave, my love?
Oh, that was to murder me.

Fiiiiirst Pooost

Happy now, Steffi?

My blog name warrants a bit of an explanation.

Famous Blue Raincoat
by Leonard Cohen

It's four in the morning, the end of December
I'm writing you now just to see if you're better
New York is cold, but I like where I'm living
There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening.
I hear that you're building your little house deep in the desert
You're living for nothing now,
I hope you're keeping some kind of record.
Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear
Did you ever go clear?
Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
You'd been to the station to meet every train
And you came home without Lili Marlene
And you treated my woman to a flake of your life
And when she came back she was nobody's wife.
Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth
One more thin gypsy thief

Well I see Jane's awake --
She sends her regards.
And what can I tell you my brother, my killer
What can I possibly say?
I guess that I miss you,
I guess I forgive you
I'm glad you stood in my way.

If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me
Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free.
Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes
I thought it was there for good so I never tried.
And Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear.....