A list of STUFF

    I'm feeling SUPER productive!
PRA FAZER:
-A handstand











-Look for summer jobs (I have no idea what to do, by the way. I'm too young for most jobs (most interesting ones). I really wanted to work on a farm or something, but a lot of them are specific to the region and there's not a lot of farms where I am. And I really don't wanna spend my summer doing tedious stuff. I would've loved to have just taken a volunteer job, but I was talking to K the other day and he's right--if I want to do all these things I want to do, I need to raise money for them. UGH MONEY)
-Buy cool stuff in MEXICO
-Like... hang out with a llama!
-Pack for the trip *-* ^_^
-Give K a Japan experience
-Send Yumi my letter
PRA COMER:
-Some soggy chicken tamales, out of guilt (because omg. My dad is so pagal (endearingly so). He was feeling hungry yesterday and so he decided to take out this massive bag of TWELVE CHICKEN TAMALES from the freezer and make ALL OF THEM, assuming that he and I would eat ALL OF THEM OURSELVESSSS and now THEY CANNOT BE REHEATED BC HE ALREADY PUT THEM IN THE MICROWAVE and we ate only like five of them yesterday and NOW WE CANNOT EAT THEM AND IF WE DO THEYLL BE ALL GROSS AND SOGGY AND UGHHH BABUJIIII)
-Peanut butter
-Paella (idk, I would just like some)
-The avocado on the kitchen island that no one wants (which is obviously not a problem, I mean, avocados are bae. But I will never be able to understand this. No one in my household ever wants to eat them. They're my actual favorite food, like I will just eat one straight up with a spoon, and for gods sake you can eat them on anything and with anything and HELLO, GUACAMOLE)
PRA OUVIR (listen to, apparently):
-Rab ne bana di jodi soundtrack (mainly Dancing Jodi, I absolutely ADORE that song, Taani partner)
-Sweety from Race Gurram (with my brother)
-This Singh is So Stylish (this is the anthem)
-Aaja Nachle (literally barfing in my sleep about that song)
-Rozz Jack
-Dance Basanti (neer neer neer) <-- me impersonating a tumbi
PRA LER:
-The Smartest Kids in the World (the parts when the kids find youth exchange programs and raise money for them, cough cough, ROTARY)
-Travel reviews
-Blogs of exchange students
PRA ASSISTIR (watch, apparently):
-Om Shanti Om
-Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani (STILL HAVE NOT WATCHED IT)
-Race Gurram
-Zero Dark Thirty

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

Bailando

    My dance playlist! Most of these I learned in the art cabin at camp.
-Bailando (claro que sí): ESPAÑOL
-Ice Shipping Bagel/Ai Se Eu Te Pego: PORTUGUÊS
-Opa Opa (Ώπα ώπα): ΕΛΛΗΝΙΚΆ
-Chalifot: don't know how to say HEBREW in HEBREW
-Danza Kuduro: ESPAÑOL
-Marry Her Anyway: ENGLISH Y'ALL
-Balada Ao Vivo: PORTUGUÊS
-Vivir Mi Vida: ESPAÑOL
-Deewangi Deewangi: HINDI

My favorite Indian songs.

Khudaya Khair—from this movie called Billu
Sheila Ki Jawani—from Tees Maar Khan
Chammak Challo
Lucky Boy
Laila Main Laila
Munni Badnaam
Teri Ore
Bolo Tara Ra Ra—Daler Mehndi
Tunak Tunak Tun— " "
Yeh Dosti
Kal Ho Naa Ho
Mauja Hi Mauja—from THE BEST MOVIE EVER, Jab We Met
Pretty Woman—from Kal Ho Naa Ho
More Sawariya
Phir Milenge Chalte Chalte
Marjaani
Nagada Nagada—also from Jab We Met
Jaane Kyun

My contemplative rainy-day playlist.

With some 80s pop thrown in. Sorry, I can't help it.

Father of Mine—Everclear

Santeria—Sublime

The Promise—When in Rome

Down Under—Men at Work

All Apologies—Nirvana

By the Way—Red Hot Chili Peppers

If You Could Only See—Tonic

Salvation—The Cranberries

Scar Tissue—RHCP

Landslide—Smashing Pumpkins

And No Quarter by Led Zeppelin. A great alone-at-night song.

Ragusa

I'm sitting on the front steps reading The dharma bums. My hair is curly. I ran a few miles at track. I can hold the lotus position for a few seconds and balance only on my arms. I can do side planks, left and right. For lunch I had avocado and lemon juice on toast. Great stretch on Boston Radio on pandora. Now I'm listening to 80s Pop Radio. Hall and Oates, and I Ran So Far Away. Later Papi and I are planting herbs in the cutting garden. Even later Maman is taking me to see an Indian film called The Lunchbox.

Last night I sat on the steps of some park in Ridgewood, in the lotus position, by myself, distractedly texting but enjoying being on a corner. I felt like everything was a triangle and I was the pinnacle and everything was pointing to me. Then I had to go and I watched Wadjda at home and didn't eat dessert.

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.

The dues I've been paying

Happy birthday, me.

Je Dois Faire, 21.11.13

-learn Arabic via Johns Hopkins! But first...
-take SAT
-get a new typewriter
-get a Raspberry Pi (Hanukkah... Maman, I love youuu...)
-not fall asleep while emailing my "second-best friend" for ONCE
-make the Asians cut it out with their talk of "taking out the trash" -_-
-write a bit this weekend
-run before 5k on Thanksgiving
-watch Slumdog Millionaire, Wadjda, etc.
-watch Gidget for no intellectual or cultural benefit at all whatsoever
-finish City of Bones and What is the What
-fix soles of flatforms
-bring up my teetering grade in science
-sweep over BCA application for last time
-don't tease E ^_^
-learn Snow on guitar
-learn You Never Give Me Your Money on piano
-go to Girl Scouts meeting
-forget about G, even though V TALKED TO HIM ABOUT ME YESTERDAY AAAAAH YESSSSSSS!
-go to India already
-at the very least, get K to teach me the basics of Gujarati

at 18.30 we shall be gone

to read:
-everything is illuminated, jonathan safran foer
-huck finn, samuel clements--haha, I'm a riot (only the true literature nerds will get that one, it's more or less the equivalent of an eric blair reference)
-something by dave eggers--perchance zeitoun? oblivion?
-hapworth 16, 1924--j. d. salinger
-the new yorker
-thoreau
-robert burns (in italics and said by phoebe caulfield--salinger NEVER desecrates his work with the unrefined bolding)

to listen:
-goodnight saigon--billy joel
-avec sa petite gueule d'ange--rozz jack
-my girl--the mamas and the papas
-you really got me--the kinks
-got to get you into my life--the beatles
-i'm free--the who
-born on the bayou--ccr
-el scorcho--weezer (aaah, memories...)
-blinded by the light--manfred mann and co.
-sweetest thing--u2
-you're going to lose that girl--the beatles
-enfant soldat--rozz jack
-longview--green day
-gold dust woman--fleetwood mac... always.
-paper planes--m.i.a.

to watch:
-eight is enough
-help! for film night
-napoleon dynamite
-slumdog millionaire; never gets old, man
-um... yeah...

to do:
-sit around and watch the tube, but nothing's on (longview reference). nah, i don't actually want to do that, i don't even like tv
-babysit the rottinger kids
-elude creepy sherry with cristina
-hmm. just learn korean (via james), arabic (via johns hopkins), some branch of hindi (via krupal, my kindred spirit), spanish (via mi papá, mi abuelita, y sra. gonzalez), french (via Francesca, ma maman, et Michel Thomas), italian (via rosetta stone), german (via die welt and the rest of my german newspapers), dutch (who knows how i'll learn that one), and every other language known to man. c'est bon ? Pas de quoi !

to write:
-in my brand-spanking-new journal
-a story in spanish
-a novel for november *gag cough sputters under pressure*
-about krupal's and my plans for the future ( organically-eating, book-reading, restaurant-owning, terribly-guitar-playing, idiot-avoiding, dishwashing, chicken-and-lion-owning hermits who move to spain and inconveniently get trampled in the running of the bulls)

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.

That Blog Meta

   I just have a thought. Does every single blogger EXCEPT ME out there have absolutely NO IDEA that every single blog is really all the same? Because I'm fairly sure we all think we're so different. You know? But there're always little groups of y'all who do exactly the same things. We have the "pastel grunge kawaii girl" right over here, who makes shrines in her walk-in closets and abandoned gardens to anime characters and glitter erasers and creepy doll heads, and listens to Nirvana and Lana Del Rey and j-pop, but there are like fifty mazillion of you guys all over the place!
   I can't even BEGIN to go into detail about how many "hipster" titles people have given themselves in the blogosphere, and on Polyvore too. We have the 90s kids, the kids who were born in the wrong era, the angsty kids (although really that applies to everyone), the lolita kids, the kawaii kids, the grunge kids, the retro kids, the free-spirited kids (although everyone knows who the REAL free-spirited kids are), and so many others. Then, in the more obscure and creative corners of the blogosphere, we have the hybrids. These are the people that proclaim themselves to be these weird mutant names that will occasionally contradict each other, ranging from "geek slacker"--wait, what?--to "pastel lolita grunge," and so much more in between. What is this?
   Well, I'm wrapping it up because I'll go on forever like this, but I'd love to, y'know, start up a whole conversation geared toward the sophisticated meta on the internet. So just think about this. And listen to Everybody Loves You Now, which has nothing to do with anything, except that it's Billy Joel, so of couuuurse it has everything to do with everything.

Say it ain't so

Woke up this morning, smiled at the rising sun
Three little birds
Were on my doorstep
Singing sweet songs
A melody pure and sure
Saying
This is our message to you.
                                                                           *     *     *
    I've gotten into printing out the lyrics of songs I like and analyzing them. Music is poetry, you know? That sounds so hippie, but hey, there's nothing wrong with that! #hippielife with Elinor Beveridge.
    Anyway, so, that was Three Little Birds by Bob Marley (AND THE WAILERS!), in the case you're so ill-informed that *cringes sympathetically* you don't know that song. Hopefully, you do.
    I have an amazing story! We ate at this place called Land Ho! last night for dinner (yes, exclamation point included), and it's totally stereotypically Cape Cod, New England in general. Everything on the menu was some variation of fried [insert seafood here], and there were all these families and, my favorite, old people just chilling out and having a dandy old time. They happened to have Billy Joel on, which was awesome. And THEN! And THEN! I was just minding my own business and making fun of this guy in the corner who was wearing a blanket over his head and looking like the Sheikh of Cape Cod when it happened! I realized that Land Ho! yes, Land Ho! was playing the oddest song selection. It was alternative and relatively obscure, you know? Anyway, Land Ho! was playing SAY IT AIN'T SO! Throughout the whole restaurant! I almost--to quote Steven Spielberg--vomited from the excitement of it all. It was a happy evening for me.
    So I'm staying at the Chatham Bars Inn, in Chatham (no, really?). It's pretty schnazzy. It's really nice and pretty! I like sitting out on the beach and watching the boats, or fishing. I caught a bunch of dismembered crab appendages! It was a fun time. And on Monday school starts. Which is terribly weird, of course. But this year, I have a great new army rucksack, so I'm completely prepared! And we basically bought out all of Uniqlo for my "fall wardrobe." Life's good, you know? Again, more hippie sentiments. I more or less attempted to structure my life this past summer by making to-do lists, so here's mine for when I get home. Not that I'll actually end up DOING anything on it, but y'know the drill. I like to think that I'll be accomplishing something...
                                                      To-Dos For When I Get Home
-communicate with Tess about baking/movie-watching! Ahem, Tess.
-load up schnazzy army satchel
-confirm film dates
-get bike
-play tennis
-download podcasts onto phone--This American Life, Skeptoid, Coffee Break, otras lenguas, etc.
-practice MICHEL!
-de-clutter shelves of closet
-develop piéce list
-work. on. calligraphy.
-Know what would be cool? A fish tank with books in it.
-organize desk
-brainstorm for massive bulletin board
-GET the bulletin board, uh-huh
-read L'Oignon (sorry! Sorry! The Onion, mleeeeh)
-go to the Harringtons'
-get more books at book sales
-re-read Bad Boy for school
-wear 1984 shirt--yes folks, I got a 1984 shirt. Brown University bookstore! Ach, the benefits of going to college and not having the obligations of, well, college.
-No Woman No Cry (long story)
-PM Jezzy and tea-at-sunrise
-make stickers/flyers ("If you like [e.g., Simon and Garfunkel], read I Was Aiming for Clever!")
-talk to L & Cat about fall fair
-make first-aid kit

The autumn moon lights my way

    I was at Barnes and Noble yesterday and I got this AWESOME leather journal--two, actually--that had an absolutely mesmerizing Celtic sort of print. It was green. AND it smelled like leather. I can't wait till I become a hermit and write in my journal out in the wilderness while I eat bananas and listen to Moonlight Sonata and plant larkspurs and various types of vegetables! It'll be great. My hermit life is really coming along...
    I'm going to a Billy Joel cover band tonight, along with an acquaintance of mine who appreciates good music from the 80s era! Maybe I shouldn't become a hermit. I'll never meet a kindred spirit my age who actually knows who Simon & Garfunkel is. That could get sort of sad. On the rare occasion that I do come across one of those, it does tend to restore my faith in humanity.
    For my next camp, I'm supposed to print out the lyrics to a song that inspires me... these two have somewhat meaningful-sounding lyrics, so here are the contenders--
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/IiH4PLPtRgM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
and
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/uKVp-atyiVA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Take a Chance on Me

    Take a Chance on Me--ABBA. I decided to start a new blog, and I'm not sure why exactly. Maybe for personal reasons unbeknownst to me. Just joshin', I only said that that because I love that word unbeknownst! But in case you just stumbled upon this blog, I have another one with all my followers, publicity, etc. on it called Extravagant Eggheads that you might want to check out. But I figure this'll be my blog for writing, maybe stories, life experiences, poetry, and songs. Just because my other blog isn't really taken seriously for that kind of stuff.
    Also, if you don't know me already, here's a bit of an introduction! I don't particularly like my first name (TOO mainstream... hah), and I don't really want to put it on here in the first place, so you could call me Wepeel if you like the band Weezer (or just watch/listen to this so you get it) or... yeah, sure, go ahead and call me that. Also, if your name is Jen He, you're basically obligated to call me that, so pur-lease do! So here are 10 facts about me, just to... break the virtual ice. And they're rainbow! That makes everything tons fun and better! YAY!
1. I'm really into music, like, a lot. I like all kinds, but I'm mostly into classic rock and 80s pop. Think Elton John, Van Halen, The Cars, and a looooot of other things that don't land in that spectrum.
2. I'm going to sleepaway camp tomorrow for a week for the first time, with my friend Jessie!
3. I will never figure out how to play any card games... sad, sad truth.
4. I'm also quite obsessed with Polyvore; here's my account for that. What's not to love? I always feel like a true artist. Which I am, but y'know. 
5. I'm a major reader. My favorites include books by Dan Brown (when Vivek doesn't steal them), Markus Zusak, J.D. Salinger, Walter Dean Myers, George Orwell, and S.E. Hinton. I'm not big on reading poetry, but I'd say my favorite would be Walt Whitman.
6. A lot of my friends are very, veeery into Asian things, so I've unwittingly joined them in that. So don't be alarmed when you see random pictures of Tokyo or Flushing or fun Asian people in my posts! It's just me, I'm weird like that.
7. I'm attempting to learn German, French, Italian, and Spanish (the latter I'm learning in school). I love languages and I love the world, and I'm going to Germany and France in August with my family, so why not start now, yeah? Issa no brainer.
8. I know way too many digits of pi to ever, ever be normal. Ever. As in 3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510582.
9. I love anime! My favorites being Death Note, Angel Beats, and Ouran Highschool Host Club. My friend and I are actually planning to make shirts and phone cases advertising our love for Ouran, mostly the complete and utter hotness of Kyoya.
10. I'm not a fast runner, but if you ask me to run a 5k, watch out. I'm a distance runner through and through, and if you ask me to sprint for you, you'll probably end up laughing in my face.