Sunday, December 30, 2012


i'm the chronically late one.

Hi! I know I’m five days late, but I might as well do CHRISTMAS while it’s still December. Before I get to what really matters, I might as well talk about the changes you may or may not have noticed around this here blog.

I have a new URL! What do you think? ‘Star Me Kitten’ is a song by REM. I don’t particularly like the song (although I do like most of REM’s body of work), but my cat’s name is Star/Starla and she’s kitten-sized and I like the way it sounds. If you have an issue with the URL or like the other one better, you may not be the only one and I may be turning off millions of readers a day (this is EXTREMELY unlikely), so you might as well say so in the comments section.

I also played around with the theme a little. What do you think? Did you like the other better? Again, please tell me in the comments.


Let us get down to business: CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. 

I got a new camera, the Panasonic Lumix dndk12434numbersandlettersthatIreallydon'tcareabout. It's not as ~mainstream~ as the Nikon D3100 or Canon EOS Rebel t(something)i, but so far, I like it. I will take a moment to spam you with a very fancy-looking photo of my kitty.

My objective of making this post was more to practice using my camera, then to be like 'HA! LOOK AT ALL OF MY STUFF! YOUR LIFE SUCKS!' (bee tee dubs)

ALRIGHT! SO! From +Kate, I got a HOLE necklace that I like so much I'm afraid to take off: 

I also got really cute bookmarks that Starla is posing with here:

From Ruby, I got a nice cardigan that I'm so prettily modelling for you guise in this picture:

and some Mac nail polish (that got all screwy because I got blue paint all over my hands shortly after painting them)

From my dad's friends, I got the All About Me book (the teenage edition) and a copy of Nirvana's Live at Reading on DVD (not pictured.) I especially like Live at Reading because of this.

I also got a copy of Dispatch From the Future by Leigh Stein from my parents, as well as a new notebook.

 Next we have a Molskine planner-thing that I'm really excited to use in 2013. I've been writing a lot of bad poetry (no seriously: 'a sad cloud/ a grey cloud/ cries/ do you want a hug?/ sorry, but you are just a cloud') and a poem-a-day-thing would be fun to laugh at in the years to come.

 I also got a nice Matte lipstick that's a brown-ish color.

And a cool rainbow drippy candle.

I also got a pair of purple pants, a purple skirt (not pictured), and three pairs of tights (not pictured.) (two of which are purple.) This boy at my school went up to me a few months ago and was like, 'I'M GOING TO CALL YOU PURPLE.' I guess this only proves his point.

Lastly, I got the new iPod touch! It is actually, literally my life. (and a little too wide for this blog)

YAYYYY! I hope everyone had a happy and healthy holiday break!

Saturday, December 22, 2012


Hello, kitties! Long time no see (ish) (not really) (you can see all of my pictures here and I've sort of been commenting) (so yeah) (not really)

I will just start of by making the observation that OMGWERENOTDED

Okay--now we should get down to business. I was nominated to the Liebster/Versilility blogging award by this super awesome person whose blog you should go and stalk right now. YAYAYAYAY! I'm chronically lazy, so I'm just going to do the Liebster stuff because it's all eleven-y and stuff and I have an extensive vocabulary and stuff.


  • Each person must post 11 things about themselves
  • Answer the questions that the nominator set for you plus create 11 questions for the people you’ve nominated to answer
  • Choose 11 people and link them in your post
  • Go to their page and tell them (NO! TOO MUCH WORK!)
  • No tag backs

  1. Courtney Love is my everything. (This is an understatement.)
  2. I really have to pee, but don't have the energy to get up.
  3. I have a cat named Starla and I'm crazily obsessed with her,
  4. I live (sort of) in the East Village of New York City.
  5. My favorite ice cream flavor is taro or honeydew or black sesame or key lime pie or anything with cinnamon.
  6. I cannot go for twenty four hours without consuming ginger candy/prunes/instant oatmeal.
  7. Food.
  8. I really like candles.
  9. I watch so much Bones that I look at everything in life from a hyper-rational standpoint.
  10. I'm such an English teacher's pet it's not even funny.
  11. Oliver Tate proposed to me. (This may or may not be true.)


      1) How do you procrastinate?
Well, Tumblr. I also waste time reading blogs/blogging and looking at clothes that I'm too lazy to buy online. Youtube is also a great time waster because British eye candy and all of the Hole demos/concerts/interviews/everything. When I'm not in front of the computer, I resort to eating copious amounts of cereal and lighting scented candles (which occasionally results in my bed catching fire.) 

      2) What trend do you despise/just don't get?

      3) What's a habit/belief/superstition from your childhood that you just can't give up?
I'm still afraid of ghosts. Walking around in the dark is literally petrifying for me.

      4) Your favourite candle scent?
I'm currently burning a vanilla-pumpkin candle that I very much enjoy. I'm going ULTIMATE CANDLE SHOPPING tomorrow, so I might feel differently.
current wiener

      5) Name one place that is sentimental to you.
Nothing that compelling has ever happened to me, so nowhere is really overly special. That being said, I sometimes get monstrous bursts of nostalgia when I'm on the lower school (well, elementary or primary--my school is like, the only school in the universe that says 'lower school') floor of my school because I've been there since kindergarten.


      6) What's your getting-ready-in-the-morning routine?
I first wake up to turn off my clock radio at 6:50AM. Then, I wake up again around 7:15 and take a shower. After that, I change back into my pajamas and eat breakfast (usually instant oatmeal and Greek yogurt and one fish oil capsule ) (that's a lie--I usually forget the fish oil). Next, I make my lunch. Finally, I brush my teeth, get dressed, and run to catch the bus or to school.

      7) What are you studying at the moment?

  • First period: Geometry
  • Second Period: Music class (I play bass in band) / Gym (or, as we're supposed to call it, 'PHYSICAL EDUCATION')
  • Third Period: Physics
  • Fourth Period: Lab / More Physics / Health / Art
  • Fifth Period: Spanish
  • Sixth Period: Lunch
  • Seventh Period: US History
  • Eighth Period: English

      8) What do you want to study/do in the future?
I think it would be fun to be a Courtney Love-type figure or a writer. Realistically speaking, I'll probably just work at a law firm or something like that.

      9) What was the last thing you ate, when, where, who with?
I had a strawberry Greek yogurt about half an hour ago in my bedroom, alone.

      10) A song that describes you perfectly/very very well?


      11) Which actor or actress would you like to play you in the movie of your life?
Probably Kristen Stewart. I know this is probably going to destroy my indie cred because everyone hates Twilight and we don't look anything alike, but I think she was really good in Adventureland, Speak, and the Runaways. Sorry I couldn't rattle off a list of people you've never heard of or something.

1. What is your favorite school subject?
2. If you could trade places with anyone, who would it be?
3. What would be your last meal?
4. Honeycrisp or Pink Lady or neither? (Marc Maron and I are both honeycrisp people.) 

5. What is your favorite movie?
6. What chewing gum flavor would you be?
7. Who is a movie character that you'd really really really want to date?
8. If you could go to any concert ever (musician can be dead or alive), who would you see?
9. What TV show can you be caught sobbing to/laughing at at three in the morning?
10. If you could live anywhere in the world, were would it be? 
11. What is your favorite season?


Tuesday, December 11, 2012


It's getting cold(er.)  Lyf is getting colder. 

Do you ever try to fix problems that need fixing, and, although you've (sort of) stopped relying on that semi-destructive thing you were doing, you live life in flat slow motion where everything is sludgy and uncomfortable?  It's all kind of sore/achy in a really acutely passive-aggressive way and you just wish you could snort glitter or something to send everything into a rush of sped-up nebulae and warm feelings and light and fluffy melted sugar?

~twinkle noises~

There comes a time in every genuinely bitter girl's life where she just notices the scowls/disregard on other peoples' faces when she is present. She politely asks someone to spit out their gum and the gum chewer is like, 'huh' and lemon girl is like 'uh uh i can't really concentrate i mean um i'm sorry and stuff i mean you can keep chewing if you want but like uh.' She just realizes that...things aren't OPEN. 

There are people who stand in closed circles, talking, laughing, and brushing their arms up against one another. Yucky-Splenda-after-taste is sitting, cross-legged, staring into space and playing with her shoelaces. 

Many more people would like tonic water if it wasn't for the quinine. 

THAT IS THE END OF VAGUE AND 'HYPOTHETICAL' RAMBLING (or just yearning for other peoples' empathy)


I saw the movie, Submarine for the 1.63th time (approximately) and I think it's one of the best movies I've seen in a long time.

It made me laugh extremely hard sometimes, but also made me sort of sad. I thought the art direction was painfully good, the casting was perfect (I loved Oliver's dad! He was amazing in Flirting--and of course Oliver was just...[insert abnormal breathing sound here]...) This movie hit every note I could ever ask for anything to hit. (uh lol wut) It's what I expected (but failed to get) from The Perks

The painful awkwardness and wince-inducing screwing-up was so honest and everyone was just really cute in an unconventional way. It was like hot chocolate, a warm throat hug, but also a sticky, sickly sweet mess.



On Black Friday, I met up with my frand Chin from this mystical magical place of amazingness. Here's a video I put together of our day.

i would strongly suggest watching this in HD
also, the other two people in the video are kate and kofi
also, christmas
also, bye.

Saturday, December 1, 2012


in case you forgot what i looked like
ps: happy december!
Hello! During Hurricane Sandy, I didn't really have much to do besides eat cereal and read, so I reverted to my favorite homebody activity: DANCING ALONE IN MY BEDROOM.

This is actually an activity I spend a lot of my time doing, and I probably enjoy a lot more than I should. 

Like, maybe it's not just hurricanes that confine me to this shabby little quarter that I can't even call my own (housing costs in Manhattan + cheap parents = sharing a room with ten year old brother = retarded mouth noises all night = PURE MISERY AIDED BY SLEEP DEPRIVATION), but the paralyzing fear of the outside world and dealing with things besides Tumblr/Bones/black tea with cinnamon and vanilla in it and a LEMUR on the box. (Example: Cold weather. Another example: Bumping into people on the street and having them literally wish you were dead. Another another example: The sheer amount of effort it takes to get dressed.) 

School is a chore, but not necessarily a bad one. It's like how homework isn't physically painful or anything once you get past procrastination  (something that I'm obviously not capable of, given that I'm here now and not doing homework.) However, the amazing thing about school is that YOU CAN'T PROCRASTINATE AT SCHOOL. I made this realization not too long ago, and it is like, amazing. Plus, there are maybe one and a half cute boys at school (hey, I'm a teenage girl and this blog is about honesty) my eyes lick their lips for.

worst metaphor ever
but best gif ever
I realized that there are other really great things at school, even when you don't have the comfort of your best friends at your side. I mean, the other day we had a fire drill during jazz band (which my TWO friends aren't a part of right now--I think I have more, but my cynicism has made me oblivious to all things good and is begging for a pity party) and I was like 'ugh im a luzr' 'ugh i hav no frends' 'ugh lyf sux', BUT THEN, TWO PEOPLE APPROACHED ME. AND LIKE, THEY WERE BOTH TALKING TO ME AT THE SAME TIME AND I DIDN'T KNOW WHO TO LOOK AT AND THAT IS ALWAYS A GREAT THING. And then person one said to person two, 'Why do you wear lipstick? It looks unnatural.' and I said, 'Why are you wearing clothes? It's unnatural.' and then we launched into a heated debate about nakedness, picking flowers, cutting your hair and definitions that I can only drool and guffaw about.

Not all people are bad people if you can't borrow tampons from them and express your hate for virtually everyone and everything with them.

(cue for Charlie to exclaim, 'Whoa! No kidding! which was by the way, also not a part of the extremely watered down movie version--scowl.)

I mean, I like to savor conversation and avoid people as soon as I make any sort of connection with them because I don't want to run out of ink or say something to shatter our union of positive acknowledgement. I want to hold on tight to it like a piece of candy that is so special you want to save it for a special occasion, but end up never eating it. That's not really a positive thing because the yearning of eating the candy is not nearly as satisfying as enjoying the candy, even if you add the guilt that comes along with it being gone afterwards.

So yeah, dancing with myself is still my preferred method of passing time.

Saturday, November 24, 2012


So, Thanksgiving was yesterday which is pretty cool, I guess.

I think I ate my weight in yams and stuffing which is also pretty cool, I guess. I got to spend a lot of quality time with my family! Yay. I always like to sit sort of unnoticed and listen to the many discussions about Real Time with Bill Maher and capitalist society and religion. Since my dad enjoys sending around articles and essays that I write, everyone always asks me a lot of questions and expects some sort of intelligent response or something. I’m not sure why, but at times like these, my brain is incapable of forming opinions in responses. It’s in pure absorb mode, and I can only take in information without comprehending it (and also, FOCUS ON MY PUMPKIN PIE, GODAMMIT.) 

You can’t really go wrong with Thanksgiving. Just eat, nod, and smile and it’s all good. 

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥  ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥  

I was in a ~grunge rock~ production of CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY!!!!!!

Hopefully you know by now the THE NINETIES ARE IIINNN, so yeah. In our production, Charlie was wearing a flannel shirt and Willy Wonka was wearing Doc Martens (if you know what I mean.) Instead of having actual Oompa Loompas, there was a somewhat eccentric punk rawk band whining whenever a kid got in trouble.

the females of the oompa loompas
The play was adapted from the book by Roald Dahl, so I'm guessing the songs were written by him. I hadn't memorized them, so I printed them out with notes to help me sing them correctly or whatever.

Here are the videos of all four songs.


Saturday, November 17, 2012


thoka maer

This is a good representation of how I’ve been feeling lately (and every other teenager who’s walked the planet.)


I saw The Perks of Being a Wallflower the other day and I didn’t cry. Maybe sleeping with a textbook under my pillow every night (lalala subtle metaphor lalalala i’m grool) is rotting my brain. I was just like “eh.” I forgot how to feel moved by stuff, but watching Bones is pretty cool, I guess.

Okay, let me explain—I read the book (eye red uh buk). I saw the trailer. I saw the GIF’s on Tumblr. I read peoples’ reactions on their blawgs. I’ve had a fair dose of pop culture about suburban dysfunction, psychiatric hospitals, charismatic and flamboyantly gay boys who feel ~isolated~, orange prescription bottles, unconventional beauty, father-son relationships, getting high, flashbacks of sexual abuse, and dark-haired and dark-eyed boys who are nervous and sensitive and looking for love.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower covered all of this stuff and stuck it into one generic plastic package. Inside the package is a Hostess cupcake with pristine pink frosting that makes you feel like a vinyl owning indie queen. Your indie cred gets shaken—gasp! Other people shove these cupcakes down their throats without tweeting about the CHILDHOODPLASTICWANDFAIRYPRINCESS VIBES!!!! The processed food-ness of the cupcake glares at you and the hydrogenated oils trickle down and leave a little moisture mark on the cardboard—the media and the glitz and the make-up and shiny polished-ness of it are howling with laughter and empty calories.

This movie is just mass produced for millions of people, made from scraps of the rest of the movies out there. It’s all of this interpersonal crap that’s going to be eaten up by everyone you love and everyone you hate and everyone in between. There’s practically nothing in this movie or cupcake that’s new and exciting. Nothing will glitter more than it already does in the sunlight.  No one’s lives are all that interesting and THERE ARE A LOT OF EPISODES OF THE BEST THING I EVER ATE, SO OBVIOUSLY NOTHING YOU ATE WAS ACTUALLY THE BEST OR POSITIVELY INFLUENCED YOUR EMOTIONAL STATE OF BEING IN THE LONG RUN. We live for something to change us and rattle us from the inside and out, something more supreme than anything ever. (That doesn’t really exist, so I guess that’s why people have sex—which I will clarify for potential adult readers that I haven’t taken part in yet.)

Maybe everything is mediocre at best and you just have to rely on the endorphins from the physical endurance of picking yourself up when you fall down and overcoming fears and stuff to keep you going.


P.S. Don't you just hate cynical idiots?

P.P.S. Hopefully not, because Daria is a popular show and The Catcher in the Rye is a popular book and I would lose your readership (which I work relatively hard for.)




(not that it means anything)
(but that I FEEL SOMEWHAT WORTHY!!! <3 <3 <3)

Tuesday, November 6, 2012



~Greetings from your favorite teen blogger~
pills = cleanliness?
oh yeah, source unknown
Before  we get down to the good, old, hard juice of the post (mmm, tasty) you might notice I put the following thingy. Uhhh, I was hoping you'd take pity for my humble amount of followers. I mean, I'm not writing this blog to be popular, but I would love you to tell me what I could be doing better (ex: GET OFF THE INTERNET! NO ONE CARES WHAT YOU THINK OF THAT ELLEN PAGE MOVIE). Even if it's rude, it's still information, which is extremely valuable to me.


Here's an essay that I wrote for school about mental illness in society and stuff. I'm kind of proud of it and stuff (yyyyy?! it sux if u tink dis is gud den im afrayd), so ENJOY!!!

The Pretty Little Pill

                Black hair dye, Chuck Taylors, grey eyes, crooked teeth, and a cigarette tucked behind his ear—I’m not totally sure whether or not ‘the Jordan Catalano’ comes naturally to every boy who contemplates the meaning of life under the bleachers. You know, daddy issues, crusty razor blades, soda in glass bottles, Ritalin.

                The special edition Lisa Frank clock radio (yay for the Salvation Army) reads 3:17 AM. Long, skinny fingers painted mint green grasp a round mug. Black tea with vanilla and cinnamon, plus one packet of stevia and some almond milk fill the aquamarine colored glass. iPhoto selfies—new LimeCrime lipstick (this real pale shade of lavender) and bejeweled cat-eye glasses and scrolling through Tumblr looking for this one GIF of Courtney Love spitting on a Pearl Jam fan. Reblogging an Instagram Polaroid of someone’s orange Ambien prescription bottle filled with snowy glitter and plastic diamonds. Something to talk about with her therapist—it’s cool—she has nice eyeliner and quotes Heathers a lot.

                Kurt Cobain, Magic Johnson, Emma Watson, Jim Carrey, Russell Brand, Britney Spears, Robert Downey Jr., Demi Lovato, Jackson Pollock, Sylvia Plath, Axl Rose, Edgar Allen Poe, Amy Whinehouse, Vincent Van Gogh, even our favorite pint-sized fashion blogger, Tavi Gevinson—I could have just named every celebrity I could think of off the top of my head and still come to the same conclusion. That list I put together makes up an itty bitty percentage of famous people battling with ~mental illness~. It’s perfectly normal and as I’ve just illustrated, not terribly uncommon. Why are these ‘disorders’ so apparent in society? What does that even mean? How do we go about hiding them? (I’m sorry—treating them.) 

                Are there just some things that make you feel a little, you know, uncomfortable? I don’t mean itchy Costco Halloween costumes and plastic tulle—I’m talking about scarred wrists or people talking to themselves on the street or that one kid at school who giggles and skips around in the hallway or that girl that you’ve never seen eat anything besides that one stick of celery. These actions could be considered disconcerting. You might feel compelled to point your finger and say, ‘He doesn’t belong here,’ or ‘She should go see someone about that,’ or (this is my favorite) ‘-insert derogatory word—preferably having something to do with female genitalia—here-, YOU NEED A THERAPIST.’ (Oohhh burn.) I like that the way over twenty-five percent of people’s brains are wired isn’t suitable for society.

                Having a doctor look at your mind as opposed to your brain does seem a little awkward. Well, awkward enough to be considered an insult unless you write a blog with stills from Harold and Maude and pictures of cheerleaders with smeared make-up and period stains on their skirts. People who stray away from the norm haven’t always been considered ‘sick’ because there was no norm or, I guess, abnorm. There weren’t such rigid rules as to who you’re supposed to be and who you’re not supposed to be and what clich├ęs to fit—but now it would even be weird of the school psychopath to be on the football team unless he’s trying to pull a Kurt Cobain and lose purposely to piss off his abusive redneck father. Once upon a time, the list of these seemingly random and pointless things deemed not okay or unacceptable or even undesirable was nonexistent. Obviously, when we (as a people) were all born out of ash and lava and orange stuff, just how glamorous the girl next rock’s snow leopard tunic was wasn’t something people were too concerned about. It’s not like other males didn’t want to mate with her because they thought she had an annoying laugh or was too flat-chested. Tyra Banks didn’t have to do her little ‘REAL BEAUTY’ PSA’a and we didn’t need RuPaul to tell us to love ourselves. Broody goth kids didn’t have to carve out their stomachs because NO ONE WOULD CARE IF YOU PREFERRED POETRY OVER FOOTBALL! The philosopher, Jean-Jacques Rousseau said that in the past few centuries, the world has created a universal, penultimate perfect that everyone yearns for in some way, shape or form. However, nature isn’t very selective of who lives and who dies anymore, so we’re all super diverse and the less than perfect people aren’t weeded out.  There are an astounding number of different body types, hair colors, skin colors, and even personality traits and hobbies/interests, but only a select few well-known combinations are ‘okay.’ If you don’t have the ‘correct’ dress size, be ready to find yourself sitting in a support group at the back of a church with your fellow laxative addicts and peeling pink paint and rusty folding chairs. According to the girls in your class, that’s pretty low. Instead of nature choosing what’s desirable and what isn’t, our society does.

Rousseau didn’t like our new world where everyone has to fit neatly into a certain category—and I’m guessing the one million plus people who take their own lives each year don’t like it very much either. He believed that humans were peaceful in their natural state, before too many sloppy technological and emotional developments. To me, it makes sense. Our brains got bigger, but not our muscles. We needed more juice to saturate our mushy pink (well, apparently they’re white or something) swirls and grooves. This complexity couldn’t be evenly distributed throughout our biceps and thunder thighs (or lack thereof) and we couldn’t burn it off by hunting mammoths. We had to dream. From these dreams, we’ve created things to take us to that world of possibility and wonder or at least a make-shift version of it. The combination of abstract, wishy-washy-sparkles-and-hot-tub-ness and intellectual thinking and problem solving caused us to materialize basically everything. Life isn’t determined by the practicality of the weather or the availability of food because we’ve used our smarticles to build ourselves out of that world and it wasn’t just for the better.

We live our whole lives for this sense of order we’ve invented for ourselves. Do you ever stop yourself on the street and just get totally overwhelmed about the way everything is? All the buildings were meticulously designed by some gawky salt and pepper architect wearing Buddy Holly glasses who worked his butt off in high school to do worthless extracurriculars to get into a good college and have the sleep deprived and malnourished opportunity that’s commonly referred to as ‘success.’ Every tree had a precious little hole dug up for it and a one-brick-and-one-slab-of-cement-after-another planter. Like, what if the bricks aren’t lined up correctly? WHY IS A CONFINING BARRICADE OF ROCK TO SHOW OFF DIRT AND LEAVES EVEN REMOTELY NECCESARY? Because it won’t look ‘nice’ without it! The planter must be made according to the blueprint; architect guy did what he did every day after school because of the “How to Get Into MIT and Afford Organic Greek Yogurt” handbook; the rules cannot be aren’t made to be broken.

                In our omnipresent system, everything is compared to everything else. We all make judgments of ourselves and others based on the little ubiquitous model image we all have implanted in our minds. Everything has some formula to it, like an algebra problem. We want a tangible value for x—a simple and recognizable integer we can comprehend. For example, when you’ve been sitting in front of your computer for four hours and you haven’t gotten any homework done due to British vloggers drinking fish sticks and custard, you might put one and one together and decide, ‘Okay, I’m ADHD.’ Congratulations, you are now officially a badass, right up there with Angelina Jolie in Girl Interrupted, smirking at her yellow silk pajama clad former psych ward inmate hanging by her neck, all purple-faced and dead.

                I’m not saying that everyone should just ignore something that could seriously be jeopardizing their school performance because that determines where they’ll be in ten years. What I’m saying is that not being able to focus on dumb assessments of ‘intelligence’ (whatever that means) should not determine your fate. I’m not criticizing teachers, either, or school, in general. I’m criticizing the whole system built around narrow judgments that dictate our entire lives and identities.  School wants to quantify things like intelligence that are way more abstract than a number on a piece of paper. Still, we do it this way because it’s exponentially easier. It’s too complicated for humans to fully understand each other intuitively by touching and feeling. When Steve Martin has his hair in a braid, burns incense, and invites you to sit cross-legged on top of a table with him and press your forehead against his, you can’t help but be put off or even offended by his “ridiculousness.”

                You might find the scenario I described above amusing because I illustrated the familiar ooey-gooey hippie stereo-type. That’s a perfect example of how we use categories to make sense of everything. There are sexualities, cliques, genres, et cetera. However, there’s something else that tells you who you are. I believe the word is ‘disorder’—when you make a wrong turn or when your “perfect daughter” project does not go according to plan.

We’re caught off guard when things deviate from what we already know. Sometimes x is a crazy irrational number that hurts to look at. It’s isn’t pristinely pieced together like our iPads or table cloths and chairs. Doctors hastily go through the scrap paper to see where the mistake was. Did I multiply by two? Yes. Did I add four? Oh wait—I see—when she was nine, she saw one of those gory vegan propaganda pamphlets. That’s why she won’t eat anything that hasn’t been ‘properly disinfected’ in front of her face. Ah, a classic case of Obsessive-Compulsive disorder. You can get a PhD to validly say it’s as simple as that.

A lot of the time this crazy irrational number doesn’t have much use in the material world. It’s advised to be rounded up to a friendlier number for lucidity’s sake. This cleanliness issue can be easily solved with a handy dandy Zoloft prescription! A few milligrams of chemicals and powder compressed into a small pellet will make someone affected by the taints in our society not appear too tainted to society. People are exposed to some corrupt truths, but then have to mask these truths in themselves, which shows how rigid and misleading our society’s values are.

We’ve created a world that’s too big for such a vast number of people to thrive in and they’re being told that who or what they are is an anomaly. They are supposedly a kink in the chain, the squeaky of the supposedly well-oiled machine. We have to somehow get it into our heads that human beings are more color and less math. You can’t just be x or y or 3 or 14 or even red or blue. Everyone is a different shade, aura, feel, or spirit at any given moment. ‘Normal’ and ‘abnormal’ are made up things that unnecessarily get in the way and screw things up for us. We have to learn to break these barriers and just be our truest selves and not just two-dimensional acronyms.

Sunday, October 28, 2012


I submitted a diary entry to Rookie, but I thought I'd post it here just in case you don't aren't a rookie or something. (That was a joke. You are.)


Hmmm... Should I watch Halloweentown or do my physics homework? It's a very hard decision.

Listen to this:




you know what time it is

is that what i think it is? another halloween appreciation post? ur not srsly doing this 2 me.

If that thing with the no punctuation and misspellings and caramel calcium chews and mildew and torn scratching posts and little gooey cat teeth annoys you…I don’t know.

The test thing I’ve been whining about is finally over! Yay! I don’t really know (care) how well I did, but I’m glad (and hopefully you are, too) I can return to regular posting and not eating eight granola bars and six bowls of cereal in one sitting—if you’re not sure what I’m trying to say, let me clarify (because I hate it when I don’t know what other people are trying to say): S-T-R-E-S-S-[space]-E-A-T-I-N-G. rawr. Ugh, I just realized how annoying it is to put a hyphen between each letter. I’m sorry, I’ll change that URL for y’all when I think of some witty play on some obscure Sonic Youth song that no one will get my reference to. (oh, the troubles of the painfully indie.)

My mother (awwww how cute) asked why I post such “ugly” pictures of myself on the internetz. I think growing up in a Styrofoam Cup Noodles cup in the middle of nowhere in China obscured her sense of humor. I AM NOT GOING TO LET HER MEAN WORDS GET TO ME. I’M JUST GOING TO BE ME!!!! Read the writing on the wall temporary tattoo.

the mummy guy makes me a little too happy
My school had a dance tonight. FRIGHT NIGHT. It was mostly me “moshing” and everyone being like “whut duh fuq” Dances (or any parties, wait no, social gatherings in general) are a bit of a drag, so I just eat and sulk the whole time. (Well, half the time—I dance, but get tired quickly.) It made me realize how much I love just sitting outside and talking to my best frands (and how attractive it is when boys dye their hair What? Huh? I didn’t say anything. Did you?)

Tumblr has been very good to me. Here are some pictures of Halloween nostalgia that makes my heart hurt:



find all sources from here--i'm lazy, okayyy?

Something about Halloween has always been really awesome to me. Autumn is an awesome season and I love candy and there's something really badass about witches and Satan

In New York City, when Halloween approaches, people walk around in costumes and there is this amazing spirit that is in the air that looks really cool in tights and velvet boots with a big fat buckle and a bit of a heel. Halloween is like Christmas, but it's not too cold and you don't have to worry about religion or getting the right presents. My fondest childhood memories (weight how old r u agan) are of me, my dad, and my brother running up and down the stairs of my building and taking eight mini-Milky Ways from all those those tiny bowls that are all ceramic and black and 'pleaz take one' and will most likely be shattered by the time the ceramic bowl owner checks back in on his/her ceramic bowl-ness.


I made a worklist (like play, but work because I'm clever.) It's called, "*black cats with warts or something" wow. It makes me laugh a lot whenever Charlie says 'wow!' in the Perks, especially when he discovers masturbation and is like "No kidding!" And no, I haven't seen the movie yet.

Spotify didn't recognize my copy of My Body, The Hand Grenade or something and I couldn't live without posting this song (well, this cover of it) so, yeah: