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| Currently reading: Sense and Sensibility, Evelina, Psalms 31
Currently watching: The Magic Flute, showboat
Currently listening to: Rilo Kiley
Currently eating: twizzlers
Currently feeling: crushed and well salted
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| i am so irate over the fact that people like jodi picoult. that's all.
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| Currently reading: Night visitor
Currently Watching: Everything is Illuminated
Currently listening to: Fiona Apple
Currently playing: rachmoninoff concerto
Currently writing: Psalms 5,6,7 and Fragments
Currently eating: korean watermelon and mocha chip hagan daaz
on thursday i went to LA and was at the filming of So You Think You Can Dance at CBS. It was so cool and I've never been that starstruck before - I said hi to Nigel and told him I loved him when I didn't really and I said hi to Mary Murphy and she looked at me funny and then I talked with Jesus, and turned around and saw the cast of Hairspray (the movie), all of who were present at the show, and there of course, were travis, benji, and ivan, all who are basically the hottest guys ever and it was really fun :)
busy bees busyy beez buszybe eszeesyzyyeeezzzZzZzeezyeeezzzzz.
i babysat for ten and a half hours today. Excuse me if my mind is like a peach's ass.
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| Currently watching: Pre-screening of Harry Potter 5
Currently reading: Nineteen Minutes
Currently listening to: nothing
Currently writing: Psalms 5
I have a splitting headache and I'm reading a book about school shootings. It's actually really terrible and drawn out, trying to make sense of why someone would ever do such a terrible thing as shoot his or her fellow students. Blame the parents? Blame the person who gave the student a gun? Blame the student? But I have a lurking suspicion that like most good or wannabe good authors, Picoult's going to qualify the whole darn thing and come to the already transparent conclusion that, oh yes, oh my, we'll never really be able to understand a mass murderer. I don't know why I put myself through careful reading of this crap - I should just speed through the whole thing and not feel guilty when I give the book and author a big fat PASS. But now I'm sounding high and mighty and it's just because I have this terrible headache and if you've decided to venture to read this than you have no right to complain about my ranting.
I love Helena Carter. She seriously rocks my socks. She, Evana Lynch (Luna Lovegood), and the dueling scene climax saved the movie. If Helena and Johnny Depp got married, I would want to be in their family.
Ron was such a disappointment - he looked like a hulking dummy, completely repressed in fear of taking the spotlight from Harry away- totally different from the last film in which he was delightfully funny. Emma Watson needs to stop talking with her eyebrows. It makes me nervous.
Today was mother's bday. Happy birthday mother. We romped around Fullerton and Irvine all day - woke up too late to hit laguna, but besides that it was great fun. Now I have to go back to LA tomorrow just for the day - is it really bad that i'm dreading it and wishing I could just stay home? I'm also hitting LA on thursday too to see the filming of So You Think You Can Dance. I hope it's not a complete disappointment.
Now it's time to go back to reading Nineteen Minutes. No really, it's terrible. I don't even want to get into it. It's sad that summer is more than half gone and I'm looking at a picture of Jane Austen staring furiously at me for being a neglectful procrastinator.
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| currently reading: Persuasion, HP, short stories from the New Yorker
Currently watching: School Ties, De-Lovely
currently listening to: fiona
currently eating: guacomole, cheerios with bananas/cranberries/blueberries/walnuts/skim milk
So i've had imogen heap stuck in my head all day long. Maybe that's because hide and seek is the definition of epic for the past year. maybe it's because i'm a loser and watched so you think you can dance clips on youtube a few hours ago. maybe it's because i don't judge you for being a nit so you shouldn't think i'm a complete failure at life.
Yay for another weekend. I've once again had the most profound determination to write something remarkably witty, moving, and all together revolutionary. Yet alas, my pitiful short memoir is but a grand summation of one lousy paragraph about circles. Oh circles. I wish I were a square.
I was going to go see a free screening of Transformers yesterday but the sibling said it got absolutely terrible reviews and there's nothing I hate more than suffering through car sickness, no music, sun rays conveniently on my side of the car seat burning onto my skin, and the throbbing knowledge that I'm not doing what I should be doing and merely doing what I avoid calling procrastination in order to trek the two plus hours to LA and waste another two hours on top of that of my otherwise, clearly, meticulously scheduled life and watch a terrible rendition of robots. So instead we hit up Kohls big time and I helped mum decorate the kitchen with two pictures of some pleasantly plump chefs that my father suspected I only liked because they had a close resemblance to himself.
What seemed to be a very promising and resourceful rest of the day was completely and utterly ruined by my falling terribly ill. I went to bed at 3 and was never fully conscious until a good twenty four hours later. It was funny having dad pat me on the head and Sue pretending to know what she knew she was doing while telling me to open my eyes wide and mother giving me an icepack that must have been large enough and cold enough for three adult polar bears on an African safari. I hadn't had that much attention from my entire family since my mother caught me sticking my slumbering sister's left hand in a pink bucket filled with warm water in an attempt to make her pee in her bed, a trick I had learned in book mother bought me at Sonrise Christian bookstore.
Now my bananas are brown which makes me sad. So I'll go back to reading more enlightening material.
PS - friends, forgive me for being an anti-social prick. it happens to all of us. and by that i mean it happens to me a lot more than you guys deserve. what can i say, my mood swings are...swinging. so bear with me lying on top of my unfriendliness. ohdear.
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