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.

My two favorite things don't work.

     Meaning India and Cary Grant. Okay, I honestly prefer James Stewart to Cary in terms of looking good in movies, but... No, you know what, I can't make that kind of decision. It would be barbaric to do so. I can love them both.
     And Ravi Teja is still hotter than the two of them combined.
     I watched Gunga Din when we got home from the grandparents' house. Most racially offensive movie I've ever seen, my god. I was going to text K when I saw the back cover because the synopsis included the fact that the main issue was that some Indian guys were part of this bloodthirsty cult that worshipped the Hindu goddess Kali (who had some intense fascination with killing people), and he was the one who taught me about Kali in the first place, but I'm glad I didn't because I would be embarrassed if he ever looked up the movie. It was that disgusting.
     The entire movie basically consisted of Cary and some other British guys with those nasty late-nineteenth-century mustaches, constantly beating up like ten riled-up "Indians" at a time, never mind the fact that the latter were wielding guns and riding temperamental elephants. It was so stupid and clearly the Indian guys were going to lose, but I got so sick of Cary strangling and roundhouse-kicking five men per second that I wished he would just fall in a hole or blow up or get trampled or something.
     The Brits did this while simultaneously throwing around sticks of dynamite and riding horses and coming up with witty comments as bony little guys in turbans and beards ran around with bayonets—all right, the other two guys were stiffs. The witty commentary was just Cary. That guy is just too perfect for words. He's definitely in the top five on my Attractive White Guys list.
      I digress. I cynically type "Indians" because none of those sonuvabitches were even Indian, and that is just wrong. For god's sake, the title character, Gunga Din, was played by an elderly Jew! They must have blackfaced themselves or something. It was gross. When I wasn't trying to gore my eyes out using my barrettes (the only relatively sharp things I ever have on hand) because of how terrible the movie was, I kept thinking, "Jesu', and to think I watched Gandhi last night. Puts this goddamn production to shame. Dressing fat, middle-aged white men in turbans and loincloths does not make an instant India. To shame, I tell you.

Movies I've watched over break.

-Gandhi—I watched it tonight; blew me away. One of my favorite movies in a while, and I've seen plenty of good ones. Long live Gandhiji, all I'm saying.
-Steel Magnolias—watched it a few nights ago. I cried a few times. And the way Sally Field has those outbursts where she goes from sad, to mad, to scared, to sad, to cracking up... She's probably my favorite female actor.
-Funny Face—watched it tonight as well. Not impressed with Audrey Hepburn's acting or dancing, ever. Not impressed with the movie as a whole, but that dancing scene in the bar was priceless.
-Some Like it Hot—I forget when I watched this, but it was great. Joe E. Brown or whatever his name was, with the mouth? So good. Nobody's perfect.
-On the Waterfront—only caught the last third of it, but it was so powerful really. Marlon Brando, the original 3D actor, in On the Waterfront, the original mafia movie. 
-Suspicion—a Hitchcock, with Cary Grant. Other than that, unmemorable. Plus it was a young Cary Grant. Ew. He's too blocky when he's young. Cary's like cheese, improving with age.
-Breakfast at Tiffany's—was so unimpressed with everything about this movie except Audrey's outfits that I more or less called it quits about a third of the way through. Maybe next time.
-Ta ra rum pum—Hindi movie; don't remember when I watched it. Good though. The guy was pretty attractive also. ^_^
-Sukitte Iinayo, aka Say "I love you"—okay, not a movie, an anime. But I watched all thirteen goddamned episodes yesterday when I was sick. It was so cute, and it made me want to live in Tokyo all over again, or at least a small city.
      That's all I can remember. I'm positive I've watched more. Sorry to the ones I've forgotten.

My love list.

I've finally gotten happy with break, and it feels pretty good. To maintain my inner happiness or what have you, I'm gonna make a list of things that I love right now.

I love avocado.

I love composition notebooks.

I love the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I love Ravi Teja.

I love gel pens.

I love writing letters.

I love The Clash.

I love yogic flying.

I love Mary Janes (the shoe, not the nasty old-people candy).

I love Malcolm Gladwell.

I love newly painted toenails.

I love doing stretches.

I love Raj (my chick).

I love cup ramen.

I love Punjabi parents.

I love acting.

I love screenplays.

I love Buddha by Deepak Chopra.

I love Tollywood.

I love TM.

I love New York City.

I love goblin sharks.

I love the young Josh Hutcherson.

I love curling up in the sun.

I love wispy hair.

I love thin ankles.

I love the sound of water.

I love being elusive.

I love lying down and thinking.

I love reminiscing.

I love talking to old friends.

I love coconut water (but only that certain kind).

I love pickles.

I love grape juice.

I love Passover.

I love playing piano.

I love The Cranberries.

I love Gervita yogurt in France.

The dues I've been paying

Happy birthday, me.

My room, part 1

Some pictures I took a few days ago when I was feeling particularly artistic. The scene was probably as follows--I had just finished a nice container of pineapple and papaya Greek yogurt (yogurt and I have a bit of a love-hate relationship. I like eating it before or after I run), No Quarter was playing, I was waiting for the Hongs to come over, and the sun was hitting the floorboards just right. And actually I was watching Gidget when the Hongs came over... sorry. Selective memory, you know.

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)

Into the garbage chute, flyboy

Princess Leia--my style icon and role model...

I was wearing my Princess Leia hairstyle when I met my cool girl neighbor today! It was a fun time.

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.

Want to know how I feel?

Je suis TRÉS heureux et pacifique.

    

    

    

Ramble On

    Led Zeppelin. I'm back from Lindley G. Cook 4-H camp! It was really an awesome experience. I was sort of stewing in the house for a while before camp, so it was nice to get a change of scenery. Now I'm refreshed and covered in bug bites. I met so many cool people! It's amazing how much you can do in a week, in the boonies, NJ. Here's some stuff that I learned/people that I met/things that I just did in general.

-met an adorable little kid named Tomás; I counseled him in the proper way to ask his dad for his new favorite video game. HE WAS SO SWEET! He knew all of the characters' names and everything. He just came up to me one day during kayaking class and started talking, and the next thing I know, he was my BNYOF (Best Nine-Year-Old Friend)! Huh.

-learned how to canoe

-met an... interesting guy my age who occasionally wore SUSPENDERS and knew possibly every Frank Sinatra song that existed

-took 5-minute showers every darn day

-teased Jessie about her SOULMATE
-hung out with a cool Russian guy and his Green Day-loving friend

-met a girl who raised chickens and ducks! I guess that's 4-H for you.

-met a kid named, heh, Alvin who acted exactly like L from Death Note! He looked exactly like this, no lie. It was a little creepy.  He even sat like L! WEIRD.

-had a counselor named Dallas!

-met someone who was like Tess! Tess, kindly read this and comment. Are you related to a Lucinda Ryan?

-ate pudding/cool whip/sprinkles/brownie/cookie mixture without hands. #vikingdinner

-oh lordy I just used a hashtag. I have way too much free time

-made a candle! Yay, so artsy.

    And lots of other stuff, mostly involving a counselor from England who dressed like One Direction, a counselor who liked Doctor Who and Naruto and making up Norwegian-sounding songs for Viking Dinner, and a counselor whose name was LUUUUUUUKE and had big poofy hair and was an uncannily enthusiastic bootay shaker (please, don't ask) and spoiled the ending of Death Note for me. But all in all, camp was the best, dear readers! THE BEST JERRY THE BEST.