Camp reflection, etc.

     I am so, so devastatingly sad that camp is over. 6 weeks of my life, all a memory. WAAAAHH!! And omg I miss the bae sooo much, like I didn't even get to say a proper goodbye (meaning hug and flirty reminder to text me) and now I'm pretty sure we'll never see each other again... Waaaahh...
     Always telling myself that "from now on, it'll be different." But no, it never happens. I'm still anxious and disappointed and upset and freaked out and stressed about everything.
     The issue is also that I feel like I don't have an excuse for any of it. Like, when my mom told me I could have anxiety I was almost thrilled to accept that (even though I'm pretty sure I don't). Like, everything is all my fault and I could flip it at any time I wanted to, I'm just choosing to be stubborn and lazy and unfocused about it. There's no depression or anxiety or eating disorder at play here, just me and my inability to act. It's so upsetting really
     On a different note, I am DYING for a camera!! I know I've mentioned this before, but EVERY encounter is a photo op!!
What I want to do:
-Take fotos all the time
-Run every day
-Get strong arms for once in my life, jajaja
-Not fail the French exam
-Learn the whole Call Me Baby dance (and roast 크루브 bc let's face it, the guy sucks at dancing and I am a machine)
-Decorate my room (put up Shakespeare and Co. poster, make art, decorate desk space, etc.)
-Take artsy pics in Europe w my dumb 4S, jajaja
-Bike more!! I used to be so obsessed w the idea of biking after Blue Tree two summers ago but idk what happened to that, jaja. But it's such a great thing!
-Send off the letters 미르신아기 and I made for the second-years (jajajajaj her puns randomly surpass the panache of any given Jew's instagram at my school)
-Do sth productive w my sophomore year
-Learn how to use my (until now completely obsolete) sewing machine
-Some (click) times in our lives (click) we all have pain, we all have sorrow~ (I have absolutely no idea why I wrote that. Feeling CRS nostalgia or sth)
-Delete instagram!!!!??!!!
-Go to sleep immediately

Summer anxiety!!

     I'm obsessed with Instagram all of a sudden. It started w that Bollywood fan account 하리가 and I made, bollychudiyan, which I hardly ever used and whenever I got too into it I would delete it. But it would always find its way back onto my phone. And then I started following EXO members and unfollowing all the stupid Sonam Kapoor (ugh, no talent) fan accounts, and then I changed the password so 하리가 couldn't like her own fotos w it, jajaja. And then I started following other people that I actually knew, some from camp and some from school but upperclassmen and some from BRS, and then it just got depressing. Honestly I think my body image is going downhill just because of that. Even Sal's stupid farm pics with his long hippie hair depress me, jajaja. But I just can't get enough of refreshing my feed and letting my fomo (fobf?? fear of being fat? no that looks too much like "fob" which is too funny to be taken seriously).
     Every time I've taken a picture this summer I get so upset. Like I really cannot handle it. And then to see it on Instagram or fb sucks. And to see it on my phone sucks too, like even pictures with Myrsinaki made me sad to look at, which made me sad bc I loved that moment until the picture was taken. But at the same time I feel like I really have an eye for good photo ops!! Me and every other white girl on the planet but still. Every time I'm in Newark or the city I just see so many fotos ready to be taken but if I look like how I look like then I don't want to take it or put it up on fb.
     I feel weirdly like I don't know how to talk to/hang out w boys anymore. I am so reluctant to set up the BRS reunion AND any CRS reunions where Red Hook is... I don't want the BRS boys to compare me to 엠아리, who's looking basically like a model these days, chiseled jawline and all, and I don't want to interact w the CRS boys simply bc they are sooo deadly!! But it's kind of weird that I haven't "found my people" boy-wise anywhere. They're definitely not at school, but not at camp either? Like, where ARE these guys??
     My money anxiety is preventing me from going on the great shopping spree I know I need. Every time I walk into H&M I wanna buy the whole store out!! And Romwe, and any Stussy chapter, etc. etc. I am simply DYING to visit Stussy in Milano but I feel like it'll be a shady outlet or sth only for boys. Plus it's weird to shop for this stuff w my parents. But we'll only be there for a little while so it's not like I'm gonna go off on my own to shop in men's stores. Plus it's SOOO expensive! And I won't even see 피얌마 at all!! ㅠㅠ
     The biases: 엑소 타오, 킴남준, Bender from The Breakfast Club, Ross from Friends, 자크 from camp jajaja
     I figure I'll raid Rookie's monthly images for some good backgrounds. And GOD am I into photography at this pt. I don't even want an iPhone as my new phone anymore bc i feel like the fotos will suck and I want a Samsung instead bc it's also more internationally savvy (all my CRS amigas have them and I'm obsessed). But tbh nothing will be worse than my junky 4S camera. And yes I want a camera but again w the money!!! I really have begun to freak out like a crazy person about money these days. I hate going for groceries just bc I hate seeing the receipt even if the cashier informs me that "you saved $xx today!!" Then I go nuts and tell my mom and she's like, "hey, we're a family of five" and I'm just like, How will I survive?? Bc i really do have kind of expensive tastes. I don't realize it, but I totally do. I'm always dying to eat out, and I love healthy food which is pricier, and I love eating a lot of food which just makes it priciest. Ay caramba!! Plus I feel like living in a city by myself won't be all it's cracked up to be (and I will have a roommate, or I'll have nightmares that the third Insidious will happen to me). And like, that it won't feel "real."
     Yeah, so I'm obsessed w this "real" idea. Ever since summer started, I've been reading like a maniac. I read and I run and I procrastinate and I eat and I polyvore; that is my summer. But y'know, we're talking trips to the library every three, four days. Which is awesome!! I haven't read this much since I was a youngun in middle school. But it's like... Ever since I read Joy Luck I've just gone on to read these sorta depressing adult books encompassing the lives of complex people puzzling through their complex issues. And they have not-nice endings, like French movies. And I think it's turning me bad!! I really do, like I feel kind of empty after I read them and now it feels like nothing is how it's said in books, like relationships and stuff. And I get that I'm just a kid and I shouldn't expect to face these kinds of things, but just read Joy Luck or The Buddha in the Attic and there is absolutely no way people actually think like this. It's too much.
     We dropped off Myrsinaki earlier tonight at EWR (and god, I love airports), and as we were driving home I was talking to my mom about this "real" theory. But I just don't know how to explain it. I find I'm really bad at talking... And it's pretty frustrating bc I'm a good speaker when I'm rehearsed. But it's simply not meant to be. I'm cut out for writing books or sth. I wish I could just come out w the female version of No Coins Pls and strike it rich, as was the plan in February, but I'm not really writing these days. Sometimes I journal but that's pretty rare. Like right now, it's 12:40 am and I know I should have been asleep 2.5 hrs ago bc Myrsini and I woke up at like 10 this morning (meaning Sunday) and I have to get up at 6:30 tomorrow morning (meaning Monday) to run, and then I also have to make my lunch bc I was too busy watching, for the first time, The Breakfast Club, which 엄마 recommended for me and which I loved but it was also kind of depressing but in a good way plus Bender was sooooo hot... Buuut I'm not gonna sleep until I've gotten out all my thoughts bc this does NOT happen often when my thoughts come out in a stream of consciousness thing where it's actually natural and real and genuine and all that good stuff, and hey I am totally on a roll here!! I know I'm a writer but at this pt in my life I'm not feeling it. But it's really very ok bc I know I'll be back to write that kid's book. It's in my blood!
     Books I've read/am reading: One L (it's SO great!! I was discussing it w "the parentals" as 산드라 would say and we all agreed that the pressure Scott Turow was facing at Harvard Law in the 70s is not so far off from the pressure Jews and Asians are facing rn at any given tri-state area high school, jajaja (laughing in a sad and ironic way), which is probably why I'm so invested in it, bc i can actually relate to the chaos and lunacy his mind has become), The Tin Horse (basically Anita Diamant's The Boston Girl but with deeper emotions), Inside the O'briens (by the author of Still Alice which I am so reading on the Europe trip bc I was obsessed w Inside the O'briens!!), and other books I unfortunately totally don't remember at all, lol. I tried reading some of Amy Tan's other books but they're really just mleh. Joy Luck and even The Bonesetter's Daughter were right on the money but everything else was too much. I also got her memoir out of the library but omggg. I'm sorry to say that it just feels like she's trying too hard. Plus, she is SUCH a type, and she talks about these outlandish things that she did when she was young, like moving with her first-generation Chinese mother to SWITZERLAND (?!?!??!?!) in such a way that I have to go back and figure out if she's actually serious, or if she's just being comparative or sth. But come on. It's awful.
     Food I am dying for: the spicy tuna rice at Totto (waaaaaahh), raw cookie dough, the pork bun at Totto, Empanada Mama, the maggi noodles at 하리가 house, Korean bbq
     In addition to photography I'm obsessed w soundscapes!! I've taken a bunch since June when I was w A. in DC's Chinatown listening to some brass band on the street, and on the train coming back home, and in Chelsea, and even in Times Square where I was hiding my phone every time one of the CRS girls spoke so I wouldn't record them, jajaja. But the wind always gets in the way!! I messaged the Suvi who did the soundscape instruction for tips, bc Myrsinaki told me she always did that whenever she wanted to take up some skill (like 존 for meditation... ugh, John jajaj). She said she  was flattered and she would get back to me but she has NOT. I am v underwhelmed by this, and honestly this is so typical CRS. Myrsini and I were just talking about it on the way to the airport. Basically most of the campers totally have this reputation for having awesome ideas and then not acting upon them. Like during holiday break (when Myrsini was w our Turkish amigo and so we were messaging nonstop about the drama jajaj), a few of them were planning a massive trans-continental trip for this month and basically asked everyone "which would be a more convenient option, meeting up in Paris and then island-hopping in Greece, or taking Europe by train and then setting up shop in Thailand?" Which sounds like a dream, but really? We certainly were not all loaded at camp, but what kind of an idea is that, let's get real, jajaja. But that's one example out of tons. The reunions, for example, they always fall through. I was lucky enough to see Nush and Myrsinaki twice, Shaf and Shags a bunch of times and some of the city girls a few times too, but I know a lot of people had their plans just not work out. Whatever, though. If they don't want to meet, it's no problem. I totally have skype anxiety so i really can't talk in this department.
     But seriously, the Red Hook guys are SUCH a crackup. 안다루 with his 타이새야-style posts and his selfies (jajajajaja, the SELFIES!), 타리스탄 with his awkward Italy videos, all the Stuy guys on the CRS group chat (ugh, the Stuy guys. 아누사 was 100% right when she was complaining about how deadly they were on College Day, but I was totally smitten w 라이안 and 리타므 and didn't realize the true social ineptness until post-camp)... I wish I made friends w the European boys. They were more normal, lol.
     I really should make this blog private w all the names I'm shouting out all the time, jajaja. But I have this far-fetched idea that I'll someday become some household-name blog like the ones on Rookie simply by "being myself!" (Suuuuure.) So of course it MUST be public!!
     OK, I think I'm winding down. Gotta get myself up bright and early for my run anyway, and ughhh I feel the sleep tugging at my eyes already... I'm going to hate myself tomorrow morning... My time management SUCKS, and I'm more than a week behind on French, and oh great my mom is coming jajajaj she just slaughtered me but I'm going to bed now for real. And also, I am SO pumped for Europe!! I'll take tons of pics w my awful 4S camera and tons of metro soundscapes, and I'll buy a bag and a bucket hat and a hacky sack and Italian and Spanish and Portuguese fashion mags, and I'll run in all the countries and feel a huge sense of accomplishment from doing that a few months later when I'm back in the clutches of my high school. Ugh. School.
     Jaja. Ok. Καληνυχτα!!
     EDIT: I changed all the names to hangul so it's censored!!

What homework? jajaja

    Inspired by my homegirl Francesca to do a post!
    Omg. I cannot even handle the sadness, jaja. I laugh but it's not even funny. I miss myself, you know? I have too many worries these days. I was so cute back in the day. Now I'm just depressing and stuff. It's horrifying. But it just goes to show you: I am a product of my environment. Who's even cute anymore? Nobody. It's all high school's fault.
    But for real. I don't even like myself anymore, I mean, I do, but I get on my nerves so much. It's horrifying. Everything is just so negative and I'm just not like that. I don't wanna gossip about teachers. I don't wanna gossip about other girls. I don't wanna fat talk. I don't wanna do any of this. Most of all I don't wanna do my homework. IT IS EARTH DAY SO OUR TEACHERS SHOULD GIVE US HOMEWORK THAT IS GREAT FUN.
     And also, my allergies are going ballistic, so I can't even go outside!!! So I was allowed to stay in the library for block gym instead of running the mile like my peers (jajaja), but I couldn't even concentrate in there with the suspicious librarian staring at me making silent assumptions that I was cutting class and all the PEOPLEEEE that I cannot handle, like it's so weird that everyone at my school somehow looks exactly the same... It's so weird. It's like a cult. For real. I can't handle it; I mean like they all have different body types and although the student body is mostly white we have kids of many different ethnic backgrounds and what have you, and despite all that they all look the same. Something about the leggings and the Sperrys and the North Faces and the LEGGINGS just gets me. I can't handle it. I don't understand how somehow everyone can look like that. But obviously the worst part is the attitudes. I can't deal. I wish everyone there could just go for a hike on the PCT for a few weeks in solitude and see what would happen. I think they would all chill out.
     But then again, we're all what society made us, basically. I maintain that belief. It's not their fault this town is nuts, jajaja. I mean, half the girls in my grade already have wrinkle lines in their foreheads from worrying about the gradebook and trying to diet or something. And it's HORRIBLE. People really don't appreciate how hard it is for girls. We have so many expectations. I'm not even going to go into it right now because the feminism could go on for centuries and I still have history homework to do, but for real, it is wrong. I wish girls could stop trying to fit themselves and their identities these stupid leggings if their bods say otherwise and just dress how they like. We obviously don't all look the same, so why should we all try to wear the same clothes? And BECAUSE a girl doesn't fit the same clothes as another girl, she's too fat or too skinny or too neither? RIDICULOUSNESS TO THE PEAKS!!! It's all the fashion industry's fault. Actually, it's really every industry's fault. I just watched the documentary Fed Up about how corporations are making us OD on sugar and consequently become obese, and as far as I'm concerned, nothing that was created to "help" the general public is doing its job at all, with the exception of maybe the UN organizations. But come on, other than that? I hate the feeling of being taken advantage of. And every industry is basically doing that right now. Yucky.

A history

1. China
2. Russia...? (I remember being very into my Royal Diaries book about the Romanovs, and the Russian Olympians during the Beijing Games in 2008, and (because I was still writing stories at that age) naming the main characters Tatiana and Alexandra to purposely sound Russian. So yes, Russia as well.)
3. Italy (on a low degree, just because I adored Lucca and the language. I wouldn't necessarily call it cultural obsession on the level of what I do now.)
4. Japan (for a short period of time. Mostly because my friends in 7th grade were inspiring me, and I liked Death Note and Ouran and going out for dim sum (not Japanese, I know).)
5. India

Now what? I think I'm a mix of India + Puerto Rico + Botswana + Barbados. Jajajjaja, I love it.

Motivation

I'm such a perfectionist when it comes to aesthetic stuff. Like honestly, even my blog has to look so perfect, and it doesn't now, which is freaking me out a little bit right now. But other things in life are also freaking me out right now, so I guess it kind of makes sense.

In December I made myself some January resolutions, just for that month. I went veg, I didn't have dessert, I ran at least 3x a week, and I had goals of meditating and writing in my journal every day. Which was good, and somehow I felt motivated to do it, but when I try to do that again it just doesn't work. Like, losing weight, say. Sure, yes, I want to, but what for? I have no reason to do it. I have no one to impress, and I myself won't be impressed by it because there's always something else for me to be insecure about. So why should I?

I was beginning to get a little worried about constantly wasting all my time on Skype, OK, a lot worried. But I almost think what I'm doing right now is worse: stressing about what I should be doing and how I'm running out of time and all the things I should be achieving post-camp, because god knows I'm not doing anything with myself right now. All my friends are doing stuff because their parents are forcing them to. My parents aren't like that and they want me to take the initiative by myself but I have no drive, for whatever reason. I just want it to be like it was earlier this year when I still had that part of me that I don't have now, you know what I mean, and I was happy, at least. I know I'm romanticizing it, but I read my old journal entries every night and it's always talking about how I can't wait to go back to school on the weekends because school was actually fun for me. And the weekends were too, because I was always hanging out with different friends, doing different shit, and it was fun. And I was running at least 5x a week, usually every day after school and one weekend day, because I WANTED TO.

It's pretty upsetting.

Theek hai

     Hi, all... It's been a while. I was just on my laptop binge-watching Rani Mukerji movies and I decided to post on here. Just a check-in, check-up, kuch bhi, τέλος πάντων, whatever!
     So I'm madly in love right now. No kidding. Nenu ninnu premisthanu. I call him uppu and he calls me karam. It's great!
     I'm reading this book The Smartest Kids in the World right now; it's great fun! It keeps inspiring me to apply to UWC or AFS or something that offers a foreign schooling program. I'd love to be an exchange student... I really would. Like, my junior year somewhere else... It would be great. A Red Hook kid posted on Facebook that he got his acceptance letter to go to Germany for a year next year, his junior year, and I was bahut jealous. Another Red Hook kid, the Polak, is in Costa Rica for some convention thing... UGHHH. I know it's pretty selfish, but I am absolutely dying to go somewhere, especially somewhere where I can be a teenager and not be with my parents.
     Here's why it's selfish: Since camp, I've been dying to go to some Peace Corps-type camp for high-school kids over the summer. Go to Guatemala or Dharamsala for 4 or 5 weeks, do some sightseeing, meet new kids, do some service work, learn the language, feel productive. They're all a few thousand dollars just for like 3-4 weeks, but still. But after spending winter break in a fog, calling the one person I shouldn't every night and scrolling through pages and pages of camps where jappy kids from the tri-state area can go to Shimla together, I was feeling pretty cynical about the whole thing.
     Back story, because I like to talk about mein kampf: Honestly, for a couple reasons, break was just a bad situation. I couldn't function properly... I was kind of obsessive about stuff. And apathetic about other stuff. I half-watched lots of movies until late, and then I wouldn't want to go upstairs to sleep. So I would just hang out alone downstairs and eat, or something. One night I fell asleep on the stairs because I didn't want my parents to hear me coming into my room so late, and one night I didn't sleep at all. On Christmas I was such a pain in the you-know-what for the whole family that my mom found me when I was trying to sneak upstairs that night and got me into my room and just made me talk. It was good, though. I came out of my sulk. End of back story.
     And I realized that it was v. lame to go to one of those camps because they're kind of self-indulgent. Or they'd be self-indulgent for me, at least. For one thing, the quality of the people going to them... I'm not going to elaborate on that, but they're not my kind of people, they're not in it for the same things as me. But I would be going to volunteer with people for myself, not for the need to help others. I would be doing it because I wanted to go to India, not because I felt upset about conditions that people face... It would be redeeming for me--I would be doing it for that redeeming feeling. If that makes sense. And I find that really lame.
     So I want to travel, but for the sake of traveling. Not for something else that I should be focusing on. If I want to do volunteer work, I should do it in the States, and if I want to see India, I should do it in Bharat for the sake of seeing Bharat.
     That was, like, so deep... See, this is why I don't like blogging. I always make my situation sound so much more depressing. Here, CAPS LOCK AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!! SHAHRUKH KHAN, ARJUN KAPOOR, SHAHID KAPOOR'S LIPS!!!!! TELUGU!!!!! विवेक गोगिनेनी!!!!! मैं तुमसे  प्यार करती हूँ!!!!! बहुत अच्छा और आजा!!!!! Gratuitous enthusiasm ^_(\

Fasting

     This is seriously weird. Since I basically just decided to fast for Yom Kippur yesterday, I'm not exactly prepared for the whole fasting thing. I had lo mein and two glasses of water for dinner last night, so basically no proteins or carbs were chilling in my stomach, waiting for today. I'm empty-tummied.

     But surprisingly, it's not bad. I'm not ravenous. It feels a little uncomfortable, like I keep saying to myself, "Huh, you know, I feel kinda off. I better have some lunch." But my family's being pretty considerate and not eating foods that have glorious wafting smells. And it's pretty nice to be reflective today.

     I feel very isolated in terms of religion. When I was younger until a few years ago, I used to be very proud of the fact that I was "half Jewish." And I was, I was proud to have Jewish roots and to be one of few kids in school to be celebrating Passover in the spring instead of Easter. But then I got new and argumentative friends ^^" and with that came the realization that one cannot be half a religion! It makes no sense! You believe in one religion, not two. That was when I felt stupid and stopped saying I was Jewish, lest people figure out that I was honestly just a non-religious kid who liked being different.

     Then a few things happened. I read Life of Pi. My high school merged with our neighboring town, in which probably 1 of 5 kids had a last name ending with -berg, -stein, or -witz. And I stood up to my argumentative friends!

      It's true that I'm not religious at all. I don't believe in a higher power. When I light candles on the menorah or drink grape juice at Passover (too young and innocent for wine), I don't do it solemnly or religiously at all. But I kinda feel a kinship to other Jews. My ancestors are Jewish, and half of my family too, and although I don't really practice religion, I think it's safe to call myself a Jew. Not in the religious sense, but Jews are a group. They're like an ethnic group. They stick together. And I like being a part of that.

     So I think it's my responsibility to at least know what I'm celebrating when it's Chanukkah or when I'm going to a Seder, or whatever, whenever. I owe it to my ancestors to fast on the beginning of the new year, even if I'm not doing it for God. I'm doing it because, heck, I can! And to me, that's just the way I want it to be.

     So shana tova, everyone! (And T minus 3 and a half hours until I can have pizza!)

I only learn what's interesting

     I hate my classes. I'm so disappointed by my school. Spanish class, I was so excited for it—it's nothing.

     I feel nothing when I'm going to school. I know my grades are slipping, but there are so many better things to do. I wish I could make my own school, one where all I did was learn languages and learn, in general. Is that so hard?

     COÑO

Hiking thoughts

     This weekend has been pretty great so far. I had a good day Friday, and Friday night I went to our school's football game (our school is notoriously bad at football, but people go to these games religiously for some inexplicable reason). It was great! I bonded with people simply by watching this really, really drunk guy run around doing somersaults. He did a perfect cartwheel, too. He probably  couldn't even do a cartwheel sober, but I think he was so hammered that it probably reversed his gymnast abilities.
     And today I went hiking with my dad and got new boots! I really love hiking. I forget that I do when I don't do it for a while, and since the last time was THE HIKE at camp, it's been a while. But seriously, I love it so much. I'd hike every day if I could. There's just something about it. The way you get into a trance—I guess that's it. For overthinkers like me, it's so refreshing because you don't even have a choice, you just cannot think. It's just "left foot, right foot, left, right, watch the rock, left, right" and all of your emotions aren't even present. We were out there for hours and I wasn't hungry, I wasn't thirsty, I wasn't tired. I just wanted more. I wanted to go for miles. I love it. And especially backpacking, I feel so self-sufficient, knowing I have everything that I'll need right on my back. Camping and hiking. Nothing but the essentials. A rain jacket, some boots, a water bottle, and a few granola bars. That's the life.
    And the quality bonding time with my dad! ^_(\ I really love those times when I realize that my parents are actual people. I realized that a lot when I came back from camp, and I've been trying not to forget it. But I really admire both of my parents, a lot. Today I just felt inspired by my dad. He's so passionate about running. He was in the army for almost 6 years. He's been to Korea and can speak the language relatively well (and I let Soo be the judge of that). He's just so self-motivating. I love self-motivators. I look up to them so much, and I try to be one when I can.
     But once I can travel and do stuff, I'll be the biggest self-motivator out there. That's a promise.

Back to School

     Today was school orientation. Really depressing, honestly. But... I guess it's a plus that I'm moving up. And anyway, now I have something to look forward to: summer. I used to hate summers, but hey, camp! There's so much stuff I could possibly do to occupy myself now. It's great.
     After orientation I was in a really nasty mood, so I called my friend and we walked all over town. It felt really freeing, I don't know why. On the last morning of camp I talked with a counselor, my favorite one, about being bored. She said she never got bored when she was my age, but she grew up somewhere really cool. I live in such a goddamn boring place! There is NOTHING to do here. The most I can do is wait until I can drive places, or figure out how to use public transportation. Probably not happening. So I'm stuck here. But it feels great to just walk and talk. It's the best I can do right now, so I'm not complaining.
     Also, camp guys, check out Daphnie's YouTube channel because she has a lot of great covers, especially the Hebrew ones <3

A.C. (after camp)

     Ever since I got back from camp, everything is so. boring. by comparison. It's terrible.
     But really, it's OK. I've decided that I'm bored just because it's still summer and I don't really have too much to do right now. I'm going to my new school's orientation tomorrow, so pretty soon I'll be busy doing whatever I gotta do, and then I'll feel happier.
     I'm SUPER into international music now. And I think my India thing is finally over, but I have new places now! YEAH. Thanks to my sisters, my new points of interest are
Greece
Argentina
Brazil
Costa Rica (I don't even know why...)
Italy
Turkey
Portuguese
Greek
Spanish
Hebrew
cooking
dancing (haha, I know)
singing
taking risks
having fun
talking
teaching
giving Greek hugs to people
     It's great! I can't wait until school starts.
     Actually, I can, but it's OK ^^"

Dreams.

     Also I had this really alarming dream last night in which someone very dear to me told me they lied to me about something very important. Then I woke up and dreaded coming to school, but it was 3.19 in the morning and I didn't realize it was just a dream until about 7.15 when I got up for real.
     But it was one of those dreams that told me something about myself, and that was the interesting part, because it expressly told me through a person that I was "unnatural about love," something like that, and that's why I don't like doing some things that are supposed to be nice in a relationship. I don't know what my audience is like, so I won't go into detail. But it was interesting. Especially when I realized it was true. And also why I don't make eye contact a lot with him. I don't know why, it's just that I don't want to. It's uncomfortable. Same with kissing. It's just something to get done. I don't like doing it. Honestly, it's a little gross. I wish I felt the same way he did. Why does everything like it? What do they feel? I feel nothing.
     Either way, I've come to respect my dreams one way or another. I do think they're pretty reflective of what's going on in life, so I'm going to pay more attention to them and analyze the more realistic ones. Just another interesting thing to do. I might even keep a dream journal...? I tried to do that when I was younger, but I can't write when I'm half-asleep and I don't want to lose any sleep if it's a school morning/night.
     Also, Dreams is a good song.

Part 1 of my rejuvenation.

     Can I just say this. I was thinking just now, because my neck is kind of sore and my pillow won't cradle my head right, so it hurts more obviously. I really hate when this happens. Anyways, I was just thinking and reading this Chilean girl's blog, and listening to the Clash and Boston, yes, still, and I was wondering why I just don't write anymore. I mean, I used to write every waking hour when I was younger. Reading and writing. I'd write stories and make up characters. Even songs. Write lists. I always used to love to do that. Not to-do lists, but list lists. Anything. Character lists.
     When Kim used to babysit G. and I, we convinced her to participate in this "spy game" that I made up. I remember it perfectly well. We used to go to DePiero's and eat doughnuts there. Sometimes we ate inside. I remember one time some blue-hair came up to us while we were eating and I was making Kim laugh. She came up to us with the nicest, widest eyes, and was all, "Children, you really are so lucky that you have a mother as kind as this. You're beautiful children and you're so lucky that your mother takes you places like this." And she just kind of nodded to herself and went on her way. Kim thanked her retreating back while she was laughing.
     Recently I found the spy list. I remembered how much I loved making up names. I'm pretty sure I found it one night when I was bored and K wasn't replying to my emails because of the crappy connection or something. In one of my journals in my nightstand. God, I had so many. Always writing in journals. Writing anything. Everything. My lists. Sluggy Dugwerth stories, I loved those. Even in first grade. And I had such advanced writing. Using dialogue and proper punctuation, and paragraphs, and impressive vocabulary, everything. The whole shebang. It's really impressive to look back at now.
     I remember one story I wrote in first grade, about puppies. I loved animals then. Like Charlie does now. I suppose I was the original Charlie, but on a much lesser degree. I digress. In that dog story, everything I did was first-grade impeccable. I mean it. No kidding, I was a born writer. I used this black marker that I had, permanent, probably my first permanent marker. And I had this journal that was white, spiral ringed. Big hearts and, hmm, flower petals all over the cover. I loved that journal. I wrote my stories in it. That was my first-grade journal. I loved that thing, I tell you. I really got so attached to my journals over the years. Even if I only used them each periodically. I mean, I might've had seven journals, but I only used two or three usually. I really have always been like that, and I still am. I haven't found a constant medium for my writing really. (Not that I even write anymore... Jesus. Growing old has done this to you, don't you understand? I miss me sometimes.) Which brings me back to the reason why I wanted to post this originally.
     Remember how I said I was thinking? I was wondering why I wasn't creative anymore. For obvious reasons, K. But... There's gotta be more reason behind it. It can't just be him. And I realized... Was I more loath to write when I got... technology? In elementary school I was almost perpetually euphoric. I used to skip down the big hill on Grand Ave. on the way to school. I used to say I was "flying." I remember I always wanted to fly. My mother says I actually used to get jealous of cardinals and all in our old yard, when I was really young. Because I couldn't fly like them. That's really sweet. That's the kind of kid I was. Jealous of birds. And although there's nothing that I hate more than reading into things unnecessarily, because sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, is that symbolic of me now? I mean, right now I always feel a little stuck. Wishing I was older. Wishing I could travel all over, hike all over. Get my own apartment, at least. Is that why monks appeal to me so much? Being alone with nature? I know that's why I liked The Dharma Bums so much. Their freedom to exist. And that's all K and I talk about. I think freedom really appeals to me. I mean, obviously it appeals to everyone, but... I'm not sure. Maybe it's independence that I like. Again, that's not to say no one else wants to be in charge of themselves, but do you get my drift? I want to fly. Like those damn birds when I was young. Huh. I really hate being "astute" like this, though. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't want to be a try-hard. Especially not to myself.
     Now I'm in a trance. I love it! I love writing. Writing is my fuel. I remember! Taylor, you're right, it was so good! I need to learn from Young Me. Read! Write! Be healthy! Ha-HA! Hoo! (The latter being Japhy's Indian cry.) My god, do I feel happy now. I know it's a good sign when I've tuned out to my music, even. I bet if I put the Ramones on now, I wouldn't even be paying attention. This is the year I lived off of 4shared.com. Quality site. The only MP3 site I trust. And it has most of my music, even La Mer, that week when I was obsessed with it after hearing it on Lost.
     

Peace of Mind

     I love this song now. I got into it after hibachi on Friday, when F was driving me back home with N in the car as well, and her mom started playing her Boston CD because that's just how she's like, and F started raving about Peace of Mind and Foreplay and all. I'm really into the former though, like really really. But Boston is the best in general. That, and All Day and All of the Night. So, Boston and the Kinks.
     Tomorrow is my interview for BA. Surprisingly, I'm not nervous yet. It's probably just the calm before the storm, and god does that sound ominous, but I'll take it. It's about a thousand times better than going ballistic with stress weeks in advance like I usually do.
     My mom was doing my hair for me and she said I've been acting happier in the last week. Maybe it's because it's my birthday, maybe not. I smiled to myself because I know the reason. At least one reason. I think it all started at hibachi with my film-night friends, and it got better and better because I was done with my Rising Sun interview.
     I'm also a little glad to be done with writing class in a few weeks. Even though I love being in the city and getting to walk around by myself like an independent woman or something, I don't like being pressured to write. Then again, if I didn't go out every Saturday morning to be constructive, my day would inevitably fall to ruin... I'd just lie around doing nothing. But the writing... The writing is so hard all of a sudden. I don't like to think, but I do like to think that it's some of his attitude rubbing off on me, and of course my "newfound" listlessness (wonder where that came from) has to do with it. I just... My mindset changes so often that I can't keep up writing a story. I think my problem is that I'm trying to write a "perfect story," or at least one that captures perfectly my essence right now. Unfortunately for me, that's pretty much impossible, seeing as my thoughts and even how I carry myself change so often it's not even funny. I can't keep up with myself, honestly. It's very tricky.

Ach, academia

   Noooooo. I just got a 74 on a moderately easy—so I thought—science test, and I am SCARED for my straight As. I'm down to an even 90; that grade took me down FIVE WHOLE POINTS. What will BCA think?! Hopefully it had something to do with the fact that it was a Scantron test and I took it with a mechanical pencil, and I can wheedle with Mrs. S about it. She hasn't returned it yet, so I haven't a clue.
   All these applications and stress to be perfect for honors/BCA/AP classes/IB track (the International Baccalaureate track, ooh law law), etc. is slowly but surely getting to me. Plus I'm taking the SAT early in December, for Johns Hopkins. HAGIA SOPHIA! I feel worse for K and the rest of the Indians, though, seeing as they all either expect themselves to get in, or, worse yet, their parents expect them to get in. And I know for a fact that only E and(Jazzbody...) have an almost inevitable chance of getting in. Can a chance even be inevitable? Well, it can now. K is too much of a square to get in, sadly for him. Plus he has a C in MATH. That is not good for him. V honestly has a better chance than he does, but with his atrocious homework grades, I'd say it ain't looking too great for the Indians.

Definite imbalance

>>Thank god for K. He is probably the best source of advice in general in my whole life right now. That doesn't make sense, does it? Well. Since when do I ever make sense, anyways?
>>I finished The Bell Jar.
>>I think one of the differences between Sylvia Plath and Salinger is that he read too much into things and overanalysed in a way that was actually good for him. She read too much into things in a bad sort of way. Since The Bell Jar's confirmed to be autobiographical, she was always so suicidal and self-destructive. And Salinger, as far as I can tell, was never so much like that. He claims that The Catcher isn't supposed to be based on him, although obviously it was. I'm learning so many great factoids about him in the new Salinger book! I am so creepy. As if G wasn't any indication.
>>So last night I was over at N's, having a mini-marathon of Sherlock because K was crazily fangirling over that way way way too feminine-looking guy who plays Sherlock with the cool name. N and K were watching. I, of course, was far too busy poring through the yearbook from four years ago when he was still in the same school as me, staring dreamily at the pictures of an 8th-grade G with an unfortunate haircut and a debatable unibrow.
>>Sigh...
>>An interesting and Buddhism-friendly article that my language arts teacher showed me from NYT. And yes, Franny and Zooey would approve. ^_^
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/10/opinion/sunday/living-with-less-a-lot-less.html?pagewanted=2&_r=1&

Wouldn't it be funny if I named my mind or something? You know. I'm thinking, something along the lines of "versus."

>>The book lists are getting so stressful! Even though I know no one reads these anyways, you know the drill.
>>I was contemplating human nature with Krupal via smartphone and writing in my new, happy-pink, feels-like-snakeskin-or-something, scentless, *sniff* not-leather journal the other day.
>>Here's a little snippet from what I was writing, before I decided to rage quit, in spite of myself, because hell hath no fury like me and my hypocrisy, my hypocrisy and I.
Sometimes, you know, I really hate myself.
>>And every day, I never do. Which, I suppose, means I'm not selfish like all those people contemplating suicide, who are really ridiculous and just internally desperate for some positive attention. But I know I am. And by writing that, I know I'm not. Keyword: "right?"
>>I'm curious. I mean, my thoughts are terribly unclear. I wonder if anyone will be able to understand them like this. Maybe I should take up vlogging instead; my fingers can't go as fast as my mind. Ugh. Human efforts, for lack of a better word, suck.
And since when did this blog get to be so offensive? The only reason why I don't make it private is >>because... TFC... I'm a hypocrite again... See, it's my problem.
>>I don't have a problem. Precocious little--
>>Precocious idiot.
>>You love that word--
>>Shut up, Precocious Inner Voice Telling Me the Truth SHUT UP!!!!
>>Anyways, although I continue to battle myself inside of my corrupted-by-Salinger-and-now-runner-up-Plath(?), finally here is that bit from my journal I was telling you about. Never verbatim, never sensical (word?).

--I originally wrote the following in Spanish, so here's my somewhat botched-up translation of that--

You know, when I think about it, everything I document or even goddam DO, by and by, is really just some kind of corroboration for when I'm inevitably to be famous, or at least publicly recognized. James said he'd read my books.

I'm too annoyed to write the rest. My brain is a crummy one. TFC.

Am, plus tabs

I hate that sadness in your eyes...
***
Have you ever felt such stifling guilt toward someone that it just about kills you (not in the Holden Caulfield way, either) every time you see them, because THEY DON'T CARE? Which probably doesn't sound too bad, but it really is. Really, really. Especially because they don't care, that person. And especially if that person completely idolizes you. Which is the case with my object of guilt. Oh man. Why am I so mean?
***
All For Leyna, Billy Joel;
Mmmbop, Hanson;
Mr. Lee, *HILDYYYY* the Vapors;
Drip, Drip, Drip, Chumbawamba;
Whistling in the Dark, They Might Be Giants;
Remember the Time, MJ (which I was singing in the locker room with Kai, good times, good times);
Alice's Restaurant, Arlo Guthrie;
C'est la Mode, Annie Philippe;
Knowing Me, Knowing You, ABBA;
and that's about it.
***
I should write every day, my Great Writing Teacher Slash Mentor Jessie "the Malebox" Male tells me, but it's so hard, what with homework and all. I mean, talk about hindrance of creativity! Mr. Schneider is killing us all.
And Spanish is still the best class. Even though old D-Bear's a little weird. Dayvon makes up for it.
And I have a headache from yelling at Vivek. Whatever, it was a fun time.
And I convinced James to watch Glee tonight! Hah. This is going to be great for me.
But I still feel bad...
¿Por qué no soy afectuosa?
Angie.

Some things I've been doing

Because there's something so nice and stress-free about a nice list.
*reading--and how! Heh, I love the 50s. I've been reading books that I've seen referenced in books that I've seen referenced around--whooooooa, meta! For example, my maman got The Catcher in the Rye at a book sale some odd years ago and I read it sometime this past year and loved it... as you can see. My whole goddam world has been goddam-ified and Holden-ified, and, hello, my name is Phoebe Caulfield? So my book flow chart is as follows:
L'Etranger --> The Catcher --> Franny and Zooey --> The Penal Colony --> The Metamorphosis, and that's what I'm reading now. Fun stuff. My dad was about to kill one of those escapees from the stink-bug epidemic, but I shrieked something along the lines of "OH MY LORD DAD DON'T KILL IT IT COULD BE GREGOR!" and that was that.
*Post-Its--usually there is nothing I despise more than a good old quote. Except when they're book quotes! That are used out of context and applied to everyday life! But "inspirational" or "endearing" quotes that you hang up around your house to be cute or something, Francesca and Jessie will give you the NO face.
Let's take a swell movie. Forrest Gump, say. That thing is just chock-goddam-full of nice pithy quotes! But noooo, inSTEAD of taking some memorable quote from one of those hippies--Stoner Brett, anyone? Ryan Murphy should just make an anthology of Stoner Brett quotes--or even the well-known "Run, Forrest, run!" everyone decides to glom over the good ol' life's-a-box-of-chocolates one. ¿POR QUÉ?
I am too tired to even finish this, and I must get up early to help Mrs. F and Mrs. R with the ever-helpful James Hong (Francesca, don't say anything or you will be mysteriously and brutally murdered during the night, so sad, so sad), so that's all for now, folks! #looneytunesreferencedidanyonecatchthat

Mean old levee, taught me to weep and moan

WARNING: THIS IS NOT FUN STUFF. THIS IS WHAT'S GOING ON IN MY HEAD. YOU MAY NOT LIKE WHAT IS WRITTEN HERE, AND PLEASE DON'T TAKE OFFENSE TO ANY OF IT. JUST A WORD OF WARNING.

    I'm so depressed I can't hardly talk about it. See, it's so bad that I put in a double negative... I've really gone astray there. But really, that's an exaggeration. I'm not depressed at all, just saddened, I suppose.
    Earlier this evening I went to an orientation back at the hallowed halls of our school (read: heh, I think not), for the new iPads our grade is receiving... and it just got to me so bad. I'd really rather not take a Holden Caulfield approach to life, because, as much as it hurts me to say this, my beloved Holden is just not healthy,but I really was bothered. Like, a lot. When you're at a 2-week sleepaway camp for artsy and intelligent teenagers that are JUST LIKE YOU (meaning they write their own plays in their spare time, and poetry, and write actual snail mail, and paint murals on their kitchen walls, and, above all, tolerate my constant spew of Ouran/Death Note/George Costanza references), followed by a 2-week trip to goddam--oh no--EUROPE, our town is not exactly a sight for sore eyes. And jeez, am I feeling sore right now.
    This town is the worst place for me, or anyone who's DIFFERENT. Holden would hate it too. (Don't you love how we're on first-name basis now?) It's just so... stupid. I mean really. That's why this summer was the greatest--I got to get away from all the phoniness and stupidity at least for three months and be with people who are above things like, well, Instagram, and now I'm delving into stuff that I can't post on a public blog, so it'll stay within the pages of my cherished smelly-leather journal instead. And if your beliefs are different than mine, I applaud that, but I'm going to be honest here. I would suggest leaving this page, if you think otherwise. As well as this whole blog. I'm really not trying to say that you, dear reader, are unwelcome in reading this. It's actually the opposite, I love sharing ideas with people! But if you're going to get angry with what I'm saying, I'm attempting to save you from all that bitterness by just coaxing you into moving on with your life. Just like Lemony Snicket would do, hey? And I apologize in advance if you DO feel provoked by this or something, but I'm a writer, and a rather controversial one at that. I speak my mind. So hey, don't say I didn't warn you...
    On that happy note, I'm sorry about all that! New paragraph.
    So I'm trying to set myself on the right track. I'm going to surround myself with things from France, from Deutschland, from Suisse and Belgium and Luxembourg and Nederland, and from everywhere else that I want to be. And then I won't be here, and I won't get all caught up in it. You know, IT. Indescribable stuff. I simply call it 'it' and that suffices, I guess. I speak in a patchwork of languages now, like, "Maman, danke pour il latte!" or something like that, and that helps. I eat my French granola in a cereal bowl from Monoprix when I get up at 6:00 a.m. to have a run or a bike ride or a poetry session. Or to write short stories about my neighbors, or to write monologues in Spanish or German or Italian. The majority of my school supplies were purchased at various stores (Monoprix, Geant, etc.) in France. Hey, my very location is Maastricht, Nederland! So you see, I'm really all right.
    And my soon-to-be Spanish teacher will probably despise me when I start answering stuff on tests en Francais. Oops.