Reckless

she begged me to listen to her though i didn’t want to stay
i tried my best to save her tried to keep the world at bay
turns out it wasn’t worth hearing what she had to say
trying to catch words from her mouth before she slipped away
searching as she puked her tears, her heart was on the ground
but lying there in vomit her mistakes were all i found

we didn’t even know her really we just had her name
she giggled like she thought the whole affair was still a game
hiding from the world inside the playground bathroom stall
a beautiful disaster, we couldn’t just let her fall
didn’t owe her anything, we could’ve let her go
now all the vodka in the world cannot change what we know

he told her let’s be reckless but she just couldn’t agree
not if reckless made her someone that she didn’t want to be
not when reckless smelled like poison, toxic axe sprayed in his mouth
she didn’t know if he would live to spit the reckless out
from that day on she knew she would never forget the smell
the reckless scent of stories she could never bear to tell.

Life Is Never Boring In A Purple Miniskirt

“Excuse me, honey, do you know the material of your skirt?”
Downtown Manhattan, closest Starbucks to Union Square. I’d already been called “china doll”, “too hot for yo’ skirt”, and nearly been the death of a man on a bike who insisted on reversing and circling me three times in the middle of a public road. What could be worse? I turn to my left, unfazed. “Not sure. Spandex?” He was aging, all long limbs, twinkle eyes, gray tee and hipster jeans.
“Whatever it is, it’s fabulous!” Not just some horny old man–after a summer of wandering I’d learned to separate stalkers from sartorialists. He appreciated. I gave him my best enigma’s smile.
“Thank you. It was from American Apparel. A happy accident…”

It was fabulous.
The skirt was a dressing room experiment, a small neon purple square of impossible on the hanger that was so “LOOK-AT-ME” that my born-again singleton couldn’t possibly resist. It was hard to believe it was designed to fit over anyone’s ass when it could barely provide enough fabric for the hanger. Of course I had to try it.
You know those pieces from Loehmann’s and Filene’s Basement that look either really bad or really crazy on the racks but just go bam on your body?
This was one of them.
It was my adolescent life’s first shopping trip of singledom and I was determined for the purchases to show it. American Apparel wasn’t even part of the route. It was a just-in-case, a what-if-there’s-something-wild… “Get it,” said Arielle. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a suggestion. It was a command. And the skirt was echoing it at an even louder decibel.
20 city blocks worth of stores, 3 hours, and 40 blocks of walking later, returned to American Apparel and bought the skirt. Why not? It made my legs look like the center of the universe in the cracked dressing room mirror and it was so loud it might as well have had “FREEDOM” spray-painted on the butt in bubble letters. Best part?
It, like the single life, was now mine.

Thought Provocation : QuestionOfTheHour

I’ve discovered that a person’s life becomes immensely easier to understand when they answer the following question that I have been posing to everyone from random Brazilian strangers to old haunts to best friends to  new acquaintances –

Would you rather have loved and lost or never loved at all?

Then – why?!

R+R ; by that, I mean read and respond. It’ll only cost you a minute, and 60 seconds of writing (loved and lost ? never loved at all? why?) may change someone else’s outlook.

Examples from others –
1. Never Loved At All …
… because the pain is not worth what you might have learned from it
2. Loved and Lost…
… because at least you can say you tried. 

I don’t know what I believe. My count is zero.
Convince me.

LOVED AND LOST : 0

NEVER LOVED AT ALL : 0

3.13-14.09 : And When It Came, She Didn’t Even Notice

Dear Kari,

Congratulations. You’re 15.
And you didn’t even realize it until you saw your Facebook notifications. How pathetic.

Soundtrack to the Day:
Living on a Prayer – Bon Jovi
The Dynamo of Volition – Jason Mraz
Viva la Vida – Coldplay
Livin’ la Vida Loca – Ricky Martin
Unwritten – Natasha Bedingfield

It’s 1:09 AM, which really shouldn’t strike you as a surprise, although when you look back on this you should smack yourself–because, hopefully, you will never be this tired again. (What a lovely and therefore unrealistic thought.) You are up because you over-tampered with an iPhone you meant to use as an iPod touch, a direct result of losing your OWN damn iPod nano for the 3rd time. Allow me to repeat that you are pathetic, particularly since you were so engulfed in your three hours of hacking attempts that you failed to notice when the clock struck twelve. No wonder you were an anti-princess for Halloween; you totally lack the Cinderella instinct.

Despite these tremendously irritating setbacks and the heavy weight of my eyelids, the last day of your 14th year was a good one. Though the first few bands were relatively unremarkable, Jane gave you a balloon (and three delicious types of lotion from Bath + Body Works, one of which I just rubbed obsessively onto my already moist hands) during lunch that had you fielding “Happy birthday”s all the way till 3:50, when you were released early from bio lab. It’s not like this helped, considering you meandered around the lockers hitting people with aforementioned balloon and waiting for Laurie.

Kari Wei-Tu believes in love. love. love. love. love. love. [six times]

Aminah. Laurie. Melany. Stephanie. Ivy. Max.

♥

♥

♥

♥

♥

♥

It was held at Mulan, in the ‘FIRE’ room, with blaring karaoke that carried us effortlessly through two lovely hours. On the way there, you had inappropriate conversations with badly masked sexual innuendos in a crowded bus where, according to Max, “for every perosn that disappeared two more popped up”. It made him angry.
Laurie also happened to chose to sit next to this ridiculously gorgeous guy that appeared to be our age and was wearing a red hoodie. Considering your temporarily disbanded and dysfunctional Y-radar (you know, Y for Y chromosone), you did not notice him until you saw him shooting us looks of amusement; after all, you and your party WERE discussing everything from incest to shirts that exposed too much non-cleavage to Kaplan books right in front of his face. You wanted to talk to him, simply because he was hot and he looked like he could take a joke. So, eventually, you did.
And he could.
On the way out of the bus, you uncharacteristically mustered up the balls to take a parting shot as he turned. “Hope we didn’t creep you out too much.” The momentary silence that followed gave you a second-long impression that he hadn’t heard before he slowed down, as if he’d just realized you’d been speaking to him (which he probably had), and laughed before walking away.
Pandemonium ensued. Aminah and Melany stalked him for about three blocks to Stephanie’s angelic chagrin before we frogmarched them in the direction of the restaurant. “YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND,” you said very loudly to Aminah, not quite if the words were directed more towards her or towards yourself. “YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND HE LOVES YOU.”
“But I love that guy back there,” she complained convincingly. You threw an affectionate arm around her. Oh, humans. A cute guy shoots us a smile and we’re half in love with him by the time the smile goes away. “You spoke to him? Did he have a sexy voice?” “He had a sexy laugh, at least.” “Ohhh, baby.”
Later that night, you pondered the irony that this stranger who laughed at your attempt to be witty interacted more with you in those fleeting nanoseconds than your boyfriend did all day.

We sang–a lot. We danced. We stole things; like friendships and strawberries and numbers and vocal chords and calamari and pride. Laurie gave me the CD “We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things.” by Jason Mraz. You, in particular, stole a lot of love, from the moment Janie handed you that balloon to the moment you clambered back into the car from the chilly cold in Howard Beach, three doors away from Stephanie. What a night it was.

So. You’re 15. You have no idea what to do with your life, a point which was further accentuated when you were asked that very question in the car. You don’t even know your first marking period average and you hate math too much to try and calculate. You hit a stable 97 lbs on the scale today but it could be back up to triple-digits tomorrow. You can’t kick a soccer ball in the right direction and it just won’t seem to stop being cold. You can’t understand why your relationship and your social life can’t be mutually beneficial as opposed to vice versa. You haven’t heard a word from your boyfriend all day. You think your father is one of the greatest men you know with whom you make crucial political decisions and yet you bitch with/at him about highway directions. Your best friends keep shifting, and you wonder which of them is really going to stick around for good, these days. Your heart–or what’s left of it–is being torn into three pieces thanks to two guys and one city which may eclipse them both combined.
You don’t know what’s going to happen next.
But that’s okay.

Friends. Love. Life. Me.
Happy birthday, Kari.

3.12.09 : I Want I Need I Am

[Block to Writer's Block : Rose]
Soundtrack of the Day:
Apologize (cover) – Silverstein
Starlight – Muse
Push Back – Another Cynthia
If No One Will Listen – Kelly Clarkson
Falling Out of Trees – Barcelona
Already Gone – Kelly Clarkson

Weekly Love (This Week)



Pisces
2/19 – 3/20
Your mind is on relationships and how they work this week, which should
serve you well. Monday and Tuesday see you focused on maintaining or
acquiring a working relationship, and you can easily see what is right
for you. Expect some troubles midweek if you're currently partnered,
though they are surmountable if you both want to move beyond them. In
fact, they may bring you closer together in the long run. The weekend's
good emotional energy may keep you from resenting your date's or mate's
selfishness -- but only for a short time. Say something! 

Today, I lived.

I added to my iambic pentameter collection in Linguistics.

If it's a little laughter that you need
Ignore the alcohol; just smoke some weed.
---
The only fast food choice with mass appeal
Is R. McDonald's Dollar Menu meal.
---
Although they say the truth will set you free
The price to pay is far too high a fee.

I fell asleep for the first time in a while during Geometry. I ate two bags of apples, some chicken, and a 90-calorie Rice Krispies for lunch. I learned that Function-F5 will fix the finicky SmartBoard display in our Japanese classroom. I got paint all over myself in Art. We talked about marriage in English. I spent Biology writing all over the board and fondly harassing Ms. Shen. I noticed a lock in the locker rooms that spelled out “ROSE” and consequently changed it to spell “LUST”. Funny coincidence.

After our workout in gym, I climbed over the side of the bleachers and collapsed between Melany and Tyler. Max proceeded to drop a final hint about my birthday present that caused a chain reaction which went something like this :

MAX: It’s a size of a small car.
KARI: What the fuck?!
-at that exact moment, Mr. A walks back into the gym and hears my blasphemous utterance.
I clap my hands over my mouth as my friends dissolve into hysterical laughter. He beckons.
I obey–without taking my hands off my mouth.-
MR. A: How many letters does that word have?
KARI: -still with hands over mouth, holds up four fingers-
MR. A: Okay. 5 push-ups for every letter. *laughter ensues and he looks at our audience* I think that’s fair, right? -I nod.- You have a problem with this? -I shake my head no.- Good girl.
-I do the push-ups; 20 in a ROW. This is very strange, particularly considering I am not tired at the end. I attribute it to the adrenaline and return to the bleachers somewhat of a hero, laughing.-
KARI: Mr. A! I applaud your sense of justice.
MR. A: Actually, it’s corporal punishment. But if you want to go ahead and report me, I’ll just send you to the Dean’s.
-Obviously I keep this to myself.-

After the Phoenix meeting I walked blocks by myself before being met halfway by my father, who had an interesting tale to tell. Today, he’d traveled with John Liu’s campaign (and numerous Chinese/Korean-Americans) to the Mets’ new stadium. Upon arrival, however, they were informed that the Asian media was not allowed into the stadium. Dismayed and unsure of what to do, the campaign and the press dithered for approximately 40 minutes until Councilman Liu’s arrival, but even his attempts to negotiate only resulted in the general manager informing the press that they would not be allowed to photograph or use video. The campaign was about to concede when they spotted the arrival of Channel 1 + 11; both of which, cameras in hand, were immediately allowed up.
My father knew what was going on and he called for a halt. Herding everyone outside of the stadium, he staged an announcement right there, with the cameras in his face. “Flushing has a large population of Asian-Americans. It belongs as much to us as it does to people of other ethnicities. So why is it that Channel 1 and 11 are allowed to enter without restrictions whereas the Asian media is not? We have supported the Mets for many years, but it appears that they do not require our support anymore. Therefore I say to you now–do not endorse or attend the games of a team which no longer needs us!” The roaring response was immediate. “He’s right; we must unite together!”
My dad exhaled deeply. “Alright, let’s go home.”

Not long afterwards, the vice president raced after Councilman Liu in an attempt to apologize. The Councilman responded that forgiveness was simple–if the president himself came out and offered an apology, perhaps the campaign would reconsider and reschedule a visit. When informed that the president was out of town and would not return until the end of the month, the campaign did not waver. They would wait until the president’s return.
Virtually minutes after this exchange, the campaign offices receive a personal call from the president. Midday tomorrow, he will be returning to the city to publicly apologize in person to the campaign and the media. My dad relates this outcome to me over dinner, the expression on his face a mixture of matured satisfaction and that of a kid in a candy shop. I drop my fork and applaud him for sticking by his principles, standing up in the face of racial discrimination, and putting yet another crack in the glass window.
Secretly, I am relieved. I’d received a free Mets t-shirt at my first and only baseball game that I very much liked, and I didn’t want to feel blasphemous when I wore it.

I spoke to Rose and Nira, a little to Jack, and even less to Ty.

I read my first comic, “The Sandman : Preludes Nocturnes” by Neil Gaiman, lent to me by Max. In the last chapter, I was introduced to someone who could very possibly become my favorite fictional character of all time.
Death.

Today, I lived.

Alone.

3.10.09 : Shawty Bites

[Block to Writer's Block : Harrisites]
Soundtrack to the Day:
Do You Wanna – The Kooks
Boyz – M.I.A.
Falling Away With You – Muse
The Sound of Music – Maria
[unidentified song from art] – Jimi Hendrix / Aerosmith? Purple Haze – Jimi Hendrix (thanks, Max)
Baby Got Back – Sir Mix-A-Lot
42nd Street – Dorothy/Peggy, from the musical 42nd Street

“Yeah, I showed Brittany your song. And she said- direct quote- ’shawty got it goin’ on’ “

Kari gave herself a minor thumb burn while playing with a lighter. 7:05pm · Comment · Like

Lisa and Nikki like this.

Kristie at 7:08pm March 10

*tsk tsk*

“be cool about fire safety” :P

Aminah at 7:10pm March 10

dont liee
yu were smokingg
i saww yu bitchhh (:

Michael at 7:17pm March 10

way to go
thats almost worst than burning urself on a toaster

Max March 10

BURNED!
LITERALLY!

Kari at 7:27pm March 10

you’re talking to a pyromaniac.
what can i say?

aminah, i am smoking the cigarette of life and unwilling to share.

Max at 7:28pm March 10

Kari, I am going to BURN you a CD of music.
I mean that both literally and as an insult.

Aminah at 7:29pm March 10

i wantt a cig bitchhh.

Max at 7:33pm March 10

SMOKERS ARE JOKERS!

Aminah at 7:34pm March 10

joker = sexiest character alive.
heath ledger. (:

whatt noww maximillian?

Max at 7:35pm March 10

Joker is a raging psychopath. Any TRUE fan loves Harley Quinn. Sexier times 1000.

Aminah at 7:37pm March 10

she hass nice boobs
ill giver her that.

Kari at 7:37pm March 10

Joker is brilliant.
He is so sane you normal, inferior humans think he’s INsane.

Michael at 7:38pm March 10

wow max that was mad homo (not that i have a problem with gay people)
and if u need to smoke to get rid of stress, its better than beating ur girlfriend *cough chris brown cough*

Max at 7:39pm March 10

Michael’s getting topical here.
And Mike, google image search Harley Quinn. Then tell me I’m gay.

Aminah at 7:40pm March 10

chris brown is the besttt guyy everrr.
someonee needed to teachh thatt fuckingg slut a lesson.

Max at 7:40pm March 10

Wow, that is the most ignorant and retarded thing I have EVER heard.

Michael at 7:41pm March 10

ok max i apologize
harley sounds like a big biker dude with mad tats
and i want to be the joker
i mean who doesnt wanna be that outta their mind

Kari at 7:44pm March 10

aminah, i am so bitchslapping you for that
you received confirmation of rihanna’s “slutty” behavior where?

oh, and, michael
i AM that outta my mind
(kidding, i’m not. but i’m at least half as obsessed with fire)

Max at 7:45pm March 10

AMINAH SUPPORTS ASSHOLES ABUSING INNOCENTS!

Aminah at 7:45pm March 10

listenn maximillian

shes a fuckingg slutt to still go back to him AFTER he fuckked up her facee.
so if he beats her up now, she has no one to blame but herself.

i personally dont caree whatt yu thinkk about my ‘ignorant’ statement.
i have my own opinion.

Aminah at 7:46pm March 10

shes not innocent.
hes not an asshole.

Kari at 7:47pm March 10

OH.
now i see your point

well, i won’t comment on either. their personal lives are their own business. but if they release good songs i am still illegally downloading them. the end.

Max at 7:48pm March 10

And I still hate all modern music. What a happy ending!

Aminah at 7:49pm March 10

nice max.
so what music DO yu likee?

Michael at 7:51pm March 10

Max, i think u have to give modern music a shot
Kari, we are all out of our fucking minds
Aminah, i think dumb bitch is a better thing to call her than a slut and i dont think u want me beatin u up for lookin at my call history

Max at 7:52pm March 10

Good music.

Aminah at 7:57pm March 10

i thinkk he was stupidd to beat her.
but shes even stupider (is tht even a wrd ?) to still go baqq to him.

Kari at 8:06pm March 10

human nature is difficult to understand

Aminah at 8:07pm March 10

like me+&| yu kariii.

Kari at 8:14pm March 10

damn straight.
unless you’re the joker
i think he would understand us perfectly.

Michael at 8:15pm March 10

either him or the best shrink in the world

Max at 8:18pm March 10

A shrink… like Harley Quinn used to be?!?!?!?

Michael at 8:21pm March 10

i guess =]

Max at 8:22pm March 10

LINKED!

Kari at 8:24pm March 10

Harley Quinn was a shrink?
I bet all her clients did was stare at her cleavage.
Visual therapy

Max at 8:26pm March 10

She needed excitement, so she snapped and joined Joker.

Also, I have to lend you a book tomorrow.

Michael at 8:27pm March 10

if she needed excitement, she should have just talked to 13 from House

Max at 8:32pm March 10

How lesbionic!

Kari at 8:37pm March 10

Hm. I need excitement. But I’m not lesbian.

Therefore I conclude that I need to find my Joker
(notice that whenever a girl says that, “Joker” is usually replaced with “Edward Cullen”)

—–

Kari Wei-Tu wrote
at 6:58pm yesterday

so, madamoiselle neveu.
i try to staple my biology lab today. and do you know what happens? you do.
that’s right. it doesn’t work.
i open the stapler thinking i have run out of staples. i see paper. i take out the paper. while unfolding the paper, my endocrin system produces a shitload of adrenaline, which we coincidentally also learned about in bio. jaws music starts to play as i unfold the last corner…
“=^.^=’ CLEO NEVAKIVI-CALLANAN VISITED 2/21/09 HERE! :)”

does my jaw drop? yes.
do i laugh? yes.
do i love you? no.

i’m kidding. of course i love you. have a good evening.

—–

Laurie: aminah. religion. lol
“Yes, girls too, balls are not mandatory for pelvic pain.”
that was beautifully well-said
Kari: i know. it feels beautiful too.
but still. don’t make me prove it.
Aminah: lmaoo i dont get the point of religionn.
Laurie: aminahism probably has a moral code that violates the morals of every other religion on the planet
can i convert? lmao
Max: BUT LAURIE
WE NEED ALL THE JEWS WE CAN GET
Laurie: well we can still celebrate hanukkah and passover and such, but abide by aminah’s lack of morals, tis fun XD
Kari: sex is always fun so i have heard
Max: Television says sex is the bees’ knees!
Kari: I don’t watch television.
And unless you have a fuzzy black insect fetish, bees’ knees are not my idea of erotic
Max: It’s a 1950’s neologism. Get with the times Kari. It means neato, or super radical.
Kari: I’m turning 15, not 59.
Max: GET WITH THE TIMES YOUNG LADY
Laurie: XD this needs to be quoted on someones profile
erotic
neologism
witty banter
we PWN

—

LISA: kari my $0n, what did canzoneri give you today?
KARI: you produce bling through labor lisa?
i will tell you if you don’t call me a nerd like donna did. i just liked my cartoon.
LISA: i will not, kari.
i`m just curious, knowing that 99% of the class got under 80.
KARI: . . . 97
LISA: -______- did he make comments about it?
KARI: Yes but I don’t remember
would you like me to bring it and show you tomorrow?
LISA: surely, leaf muncher.

KARI: i only look like an herbivore
in reality i alternate between carnivorism and cannibalism.
LISA: haha. =)
kari wei-tu, i quite lub jew.
KARI: you shouldn’t. i might eat you.

—

QUESTION OF THE DAY: If you were to break any piece of furniture during sex, which piece of furniture would you elect to break?

Match the answer with the person.

1. A bed. It would mean the sex was good, wouldn’t it?
   
2. A stove
   
3. Lyle’s pool table
   
4. I’d rather create an ass-print in my wall
5. The cheapest one
   —-
6. Josh
7. Ty
8. Faith
   
9. Jack
10. Tyler
    

3.11.09 : Long and slow, long and slow

[Block to Writer's Block : Cleo]
Soundtrack of the Day :
Ready For Anything – Kit Hain
Everything to Me – Tamarama
A Friend Like You – Billy Miles

“Don’t forget to enjoy the last three days of your favorite age!”

You’re right.
After all, wasn’t that the point of this assignment (<– I can’t believe I wrote that, I didn’t even notice) project? To get the most out of the last week I have?

Do you remember when we first became friends? It was in six grade. I’m not sure if I can remember who I was, exactly. Worth a try, right?

PREFERRED NAME: Tiger
FASHION :

• Same pair of jeans I’d had since fourth grade and the first article of clothing I can remember receiving a compliment on–it made my week as I recall
• T-shirts from The Gap and/or hand-me-downs from my (male! the horror) cousin
• Badly beat-up blue Pumas. I loved them.
  

BEST FRIENDS : M.A.G.E.S., Arielle, Alex
“LOVE” INTERESTS CRUSHES : Alex, Conrad (is it just me or was I paralyzingly redundant?)
PLACE OF RESIDENCE : Upper West Side, 70th Street. Take that, Queens.
GADGETS : A Macbook. One of those old, flippy cellphones with a 20-pic-memory camera and crappy ringtones. About to get my first generation iPod and camera.
EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES : Violin lessons. Face the Music, contemporary ensemble still in its clapping stages, I believe.
IN MY SPARE TIME I : Practice Fake-practiced. Read shitloads of books. Emailed. Messed around on Yahoo! Avatars. http://www.freewebs.com/mages5. Wrote novels that were never completed and had the same recycled characters over and over again. Listened to Kelly Clarkson and Avril Lavigne. X-men BGL game on RPoL. Too much time on AIM. Installing crappy Myspace layouts. Classical music concerts. Sleepovers.
Sing, sing, sing.

*~Three Years Or So Later.~*

FASHION :  Don’t even.
BEST FRIENDS : Ty, Nira, Jack, Rose.
CRUSHES “LOVE” INTERESTS LEADING MAN : Ty
PLACE OF RESIDENCE : The good ol’ Queens suburbs… but a downtown Manhattanite at heart.
GADGETS : A digital camera approximately 2/3 the size of the original. Samsung Juke. 4th generation iPod nano. iMac. Camcorder.
EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES : SING!. 42nd Street. Pheonix, the literary magazine. Face the Music, contemporary ensemble. Digital media art classes at NYU Steinhardt. Hip hop dance class at Alvin Ailey. Tiger who?
IN MY SPARE TIME I : Go to the city. Grab Jamba Juice and/or frozen yogurt. Take long walks through Kissena and Central Park. Wander aimlessly through the Time Warner Center and Sephora. Curl up in bed with magazines (Vogue, Nylon, the New Yorker). Procrastinate through Facebook. Talk on the phone. A lot. Have long Oovoo webcam conversations. Dance in front of the mirror. Text. Browse fashion blogs. Download 50+ songs at a time–illegally. Go to political events and social banquets with my dad. Blog. Pimp out Myspace. Sit at the piano just playing, playing, playing, writing songs, playing. Write dark, biting poetry. Watch Gossip Girl, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and The City. Daydream of better days. Procrastinate. Make fun of people. Make fun of myself.
Sing, sing, sing.

——

WEDNESDAY: SKIP SECOND BAND (Linguistics)
1st BAND : Geometry – quiz! (My calculator breaks. I forget how to find the area of a parallelogram but make an accurate guess.)
3rd BAND : Japanese – oral quiz! (I alternate between cramming my Japanese textbooks and racking my AP World outlines. I also am unable to resist the urge to text.)
4th BAND : AP World – test! (I do well on Byzantium. I fuck up the DBQ. Epically. I am proud.)
5th BAND : Lunch, which I consequently skip to run into the library and miraculously finish my essay for Mr. Wamsteker in approximately 28 minutes only to discover two bands later that it is due in seven days. Someone should stab our sub. In the eye.
6th BAND : Art. I paint fire red and the area around it black. I eat dumplings and eavesdrop on Marco and Marta. I make fun of people–in my head. I swear at Max. He doesn’t think its nice. I am unable to retort with “Thank you, Captain Obvious” because I am charging down the stairs to English class.
7th BAND : English. We talk about the affectionately violent ways we should dispose of our old sub, who had us all up to ungodly hours writing an essay that was not due. Mr. Wamsteker asks us two very interesting questions:

1. Why do you think people get married?
2. Is marriage something to look forward to?

We are instructed to write a response. I ask if I may write from a perspective that is not necessarily mine, simply because being truthful and nice is just so unbearably dull. This is what I write.

[DISCLAIMER: This does not necessarily represent my personal views on marriage.]
Some men get married because they need someone to keep the house clean for them–someone they don’t have to pay. Women get married because they want a steady source of income, hence why a large number of the women who enter medical school never seem to make it to graduation. (Thanks, Mr. Scardino.) Marriage also means a secure source of sex. (But only in theory, as most people discover.) People get married for their mothers and grandmothers, who are constantly harping about grandchildren. We hate being nagged. Some people get married to increase their hold over a male and/or female (!) they can’t believe they actually managed to bag. People get married because science dictates that we all NEED to find a stable mate with whom to reproduce and pass on our genes. Science is taken too seriously. It’s been wrong before. It will be wrong again. Like in this case, for instance.
Occasionally, people get married because they are under the rare impression that there is the one person in their lives for whom they can discard their polyamorous nature. This is a false notion, and if you haven’t already realized this, you’ve been living under a rock.

8th BAND : Biology. We make fun of our old sub and the chorus teacher. Ms. Shen makes fun of us. We talk about freak stories like the youngest mother and father (a six and eight year old, respectively). When Tyler sees “gonads”, “testes”, and “ovaries” on the board he dissolves into hysterical laughter. We discover that men PMS as well (! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Direct quote from class: Me – “That explains so much.” Ms. Shen – “Doesn’t it?”); they experience monthly cycles of testosterone, and at the highest level of testosterone, they become far more agitated/aggressive.
They. Can. Have. MANPERIODS. This is an incredible discovery.
9th BAND : Gym. Soccer tournaments, sweat, smelly uniforms. Speaks for itself.

I will stop writing here as there is nothing more to write. If you think this is going to change, don’t count on it. I’m too exhausted to be entertaining.

3.8.09 : Leather Jackets, Rhythm, and Acai Berries

[Block to Writer's Block: Nira]
Soundtrack of the Day:
The Downfall Of Us All – A Day To Remember
<Random Song Whose Name I Do Not Know From Dance Class> – Soulja Boy
Breath / So Cold (Remix) / Firefly- Breaking Benjamin
Glow – UNKLE

No time. Have to rush this. Sorry Muffin!

- First day of dance. It was bangin’. Really.
- Jamba Juice: First time trying Acai Super Antioxidant. Yum. Made me choke.
- Ensemble rehearsal: Dull. No surprise.
- Dinner at a restaurant that got my dad talking about how he went to the Dominican Republic with the president of Asia Bank and Taiwan like almost a decade ago. Damn. Made me wish for summer, beaches, and oceans so blue they look fake.
- Came home, procrastinated, did AP World homework, now procrastinating on sleep.

Fuck, I should elaborate on this shit.
Tomorrow. ♥

Grow Up. Grow Up. Grow Up.

http://fashionindie.com/barely-legal-and-looking-regal/

In The End, It’s About Saving A Life

40 years later, retired Caucasian firefighter William Carroll is reunited with Evangeline Harper, the African-American baby girl he saved from a fire in the midst of a racially divided city. It changed his life, preserved hers, and was something both of them remembered.

When I see media being used to publish stories such as these, it restores my waning faith in the world.

http://www.boston.com/news/local/massachusetts/articles/2009/02/12/40_years_worth_of_thanks/