---the system is up and running!---

A brief lesson on global economics with Terry Gilliam-style editing.

The guy I like won't even look at me.
Maybe it's because he's just as shy and awkward as I am?
Or he's probably just afraid of me because I'm always staring at him.

Some of you may remember a video I posted of an up-and-coming violinist named Owen Pallet (Final Fantasy), SO I went to his concert earlier tonight (or late last night) in Brooklyn and wellll....

I SAW RANDY HARRISON. We walked past each other a few times.. it was a small show in a small opera house but the lobby was very spacious so there was enough room for everyone to mingle before the show. That's when I saw him. It was surreal. I couldn't believe it was him, but the lips and his voice were a dead giveaway. I saw him a few more times at the bar and the merch table too but I didn't say anything. I kinda stared at him and smiled a lot and we made eye contact and he held it with a little smile, like he was thanking me for not asking for an autograph or taking a picture.

And uhh.. yeah.

means "floating on the sea."

Yep, exactly what it says above. For those of you who are impatient with teh pretty boy sexing, the good stuff starts around 3:05. Enjoy!

It sounds silly, but if I died in a freak accident none of you would know so I'm here to tell you... I'm ALIVE!

So many things have happened that I should've written about! But I'll make this quick:

I got my license :)
Still no car :(
Barack Obama will be our next President :)
Prop 8 passed :(
Got a job :)
At a college bookstore :(

Umm... well I can't think of anything else..

Oh! As a Christmas present to myself, I bought tickets to see Final Fantasy, an adorable (and talented) Canadian indie-violin player based in New York, on the last day of February. His real name is Owen Pallett and he's basicaly a one man band, but has a nifty technique of recording bits of songs and playing them all together on this little sampler he places on the floor of the stage, so it sounds like there are a bunch of people playing along with him. He's playing with the Brooklyn Pilharmonic so it'll be interesting to see what he does.

Here's a video of him covering a Mariah Carey song, which I couldn't care less about, but notice him squealing and wincing in pain as he tries to tremolo and hit obsenely high notes at the same time! Awww.... cute.

( Hi all! (the four friends I have on here, anyway)  )

Totally, man.

So I walked to the ATM this morning... could've asked my mom for a ride but thought a little fresh air would do me some good. It wasn't even five minutes and I wished I was back home, listening to music and hugging my beloved Sears air conditioner.

I hate it so much here sometimes I think my parents purposely asked the realtor to find them a house in the most depressing town in the area. 

Humid, so humid that even breathing is an excercise. The only sounds to be heard are those coming from cars and leaveblowers and lawnmowers and powersaws and it's all bottled into one massive cacophony in my brain! And of course it was trash pick-up day! And everything smells like exhaust and moldy leftovers!

After about half an hour I finally make it to the ATM when I discover that I lost my ATM card. Oh dear.

Somewhere along the way back home, I realized that there was a huge gash on the backs of both my ankles... from speedwalking for an hour in ballet flats. Real smart.

I finally make it home, ankles bloodied, hair mussed, face flushed, and no ATM card.


(Right, so there's my livejournal contribution for the next two months)


But wait, there's more!

I finally finished downloading Velvet Goldmine, which I saw a few months ago and didn't like, but I decided to give it another shot when I found this while looking for a Brian Eno video a few days ago:



It's VERY loosely based on the friendship of musicians David Bowie and Iggy Pop. The movie wasn't bad, now that I think of it. And it does have Ewan McGregor wearing a blonde wig acting out and screaming like a maniac. And Jonathan Rhys-Meyers wearing make-up (which I am usually not into on a guy) and wearing really cool Bowie-like costumes and making out with Ewan McGregor...

Did I mention it's not all that bad?

And I recently discovered that the actor who plays Brian Slade (the David Bowie-like character), Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, is the same guy who plays Henry VIII in The Tudors.... which is like WHOA because he's so scrawny in here and in The Tudors he's all butchy and bad-ass. I heard he had to gain a lot of weight for The Tudors... shame. I like him better as a sissy.

Anywho, enjoy! 

EDIT: I found my ATM card! It turned out that I didn't take it with me! It was in my old wallet, nestled behind my library card which I've been looking for for a very long time! And my room smells like Gummy Bears! I don't know why! And my Doctor Who icon is making me giggle like a little girl

Oh I am on such a high right now... isn't that pathetic?






 

Well said.

Yesterday, my best friend humbly opened her backyard to me, a few close friends, a few I haven't spoken to in a long time, and a few people who were just around, for a Day-Before-Memorial Day barbeque.

( *click here* )


 

There's really no point to this post.


But I saw this picture, and I liked it, and... well, there it is. 




Though I promised myself that I wouldn't pour my heart and soul into this thing when I first signed up, I feel that I should post more frequently and invade your personal space as often as I can with mundane details of my life.


P.S. Mom's home! And I'm going to Rutgers tomorrow. With my brother... yayyyy.... *shudder* I'd much rather be doing... anything else! Anything at all!

Kate's back from Germany, and I have so many questions!

My extravegant use of exclamation marks in this post is slightly unnerving!

And I discovered that I can fit myself into one of the lockers at school! That was kinda crazy... I mean I never tried it before but I always assumed that I wouldn't fit. (too tall, hips too wide)..

Yeah, that's it!

It's getting late and I'm actually really tired and this Philosophy of Science paper that I'm "working on" was supposed to be turned in by midnight... Ahh... niemals schlafen... never never.

My dad just had a word with me regarding my mom's... illness. A very serious word. And then he said that it was all my fault.

And he walked out saying "come downstairs, we're going to jump over the fire".

At first I thought they were sacrificing me until I looked on the calendar and saw that it's a holiday. (two days before the Persian new year, we have a day when we jump over a tall fire to... I'm not sure exactly, but something like burn our troubles and start anew? Absorb the energy of the flames? Some sh*t like that?).

I'm really excited! It's like.. the one day out of the year when I do something exciting with my family!

Our neighbors haven't said anything yet, but they probably think we're crackpot pagan witches or something.

Ricky and I made the observation that staring at your computer for hours on end at home is just tiring, but staring at a computer for only an hour at school makes you want to claw out your eyes.

I'm hitting a wall. I've been in this room for 5 and one half hours.

I see dark spots.

I have visions.


The stupid mechanical robots they gave us in Family Life class are making matters worse... and creeping the hell out of me. The one next to me has been "crying" for twenty minutes straight. It beeps every once in a while, to signal that it needs a diaper change. You're supposed to stick a magnet up it's ass to stop the beeping and change the plastic covering. It cooes for a few minutes, signaling that it's happy. "Just like a real baby!" That's what it says on the pamphlet they gave us. If you're driving and it starts to cry, no matter what dangerously overcrowded highway you are on, pull over and stick a magnet up it's ass. Just like a real baby. If you're asleep and it begins to cry at 3 am, stick a plastic sensor in its mouth. Just like a real baby.

If you accidentally rip its arm off, just snap it back into the socket. Just like a real baby.

If you snap it's neck, you fail. Just like a real baby. I believe the Science kids finally figured out that you could tape a ruler to it's head to line it up with its back, to prevent neck-snapping. Just like a real baby. I saw somebody taping the "bottle" to the robot's torso so that they don't have to hold it for twenty minutes.


Every Wednesday I spend here, I'm reminded that I really need to be looking for an internship, at least to keep my eyesight if nothing else. But of course it goes into the "missing" or "anonymous" brain file, and I don't remember until the next Wednesday.. but I think I might have something! "The Democratic Party of Bergen County" sounds good... I think I'm a good candidate for the job, and I have Hilary's autograph to prove it!

The following picture has nothing everything to do with this post:

First Livejournal entry, I feel like such an adult!

I feel I should begin with a simple rant:



I really hate Hipsters. Just Hipsters. If I say that I hate anything else, I'm obviously lying.

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(If you identify with Hipsters but denounce their kitsch lifestyle/philosophy/mentality, you're fine. But wait! Do I even have the right to judge you? I am not even sure what the word "Hipster" entails!)

But in all honesty, it's just that they're perpetually unaffected.. by everything! I think these people have nothing interesting to say, so they're disguising the fact by talking... ever. As if not talking gives them a personality that they otherwise lack! Sort of like Andy Warhol. He never said much, and anything he said was very vague and stupid, and of course the art "afficionados" swallowed this up and just assumed that whatever he wanted to say was just too profound for words, or that he was just on another level of thinking that we're too dense to understand when really, it's nothing at all! .. it's no coincidence that he's a Hipster demigod.. If only they knew what he really stood for! Andy Warhol was no artist.. he was a damn good businessman! A business man! And he admitted it, too! That's why he stopped doing portraits of random people and just did socialites because they'd pay him a sh*tload of money for him to do some half-arsed painting and he didn't care cos he was getting paid.. more money to pay for more tricks and cocaine. Or he hires a crazy bitch, like the one in the following video, to speak for him!

CRAZY BITCH: Do you want me to tell you about Andy? Anything Andy does is fantastic because he's a saint. He really loves people, so anything he does is beautiful because he sees the best in everybody. He sees God wherever he looks, and in whoever he looks at. So that's why they call it art, because he's just very good, you know, he's very pure so they call it art, that's what they call art, and some things...just done, um, with a touch of divinity.

ANDY: Fudge.

CRAZY BITCH: What?

ANDY: Fudge.



I really don't know where all of that anger comes from.

</rant>.

Testing...