frenchaddict88's Xanga

Music Kills

Sat, 22 Aug 2009 06:13:19 GMT

Some songs come back to me again and again, and their effect never wanes. The voice, beat, melody, instrumental part, the atmosphere that the song brings into my room coming out of the speakers on either side of my laptop, the lyrics, the time in my life in which I heard the song first, who I got the song from...some songs are such huge influences on the way I think.
This is one of them. Bolded are my favorite lines.

Debussie, by Daphne Loves Derby (Album: On The Strength Of All Convinced)
I've been looking through these eyes
Of black and white for far too long
And now these deepened colors seem so shocking

Bless the cold, cold moon
That moves the sea that makes the waves
That made this scene for me to see and be moved

Will my life be long enough
To see the things I want to see?
I believe this world is just too big for me

Every cloud that passes by
Is another cloud I'll never see
Maybe I just try too hard
To understand all of these things
Bless the hands of painters
Who have captured melon skies
And starry nights for us to see and feel
For all of time

Will my life be long enough
To see the things I want to see?
I believe this world is just too big for me

This life is just a blink of an eye
A glimpse into a world we were never meant to see
So don't hang on to anything at all

And all the things we have
And all the people we have known
Will fade away so quickly
Into the deep

And memories of love will be
The only warmth we have in the end

I think I do believe in fate. Unrelated to the song lyrics, but nonetheless. Things take their natural course - ups and downs and everything in between - and we shouldn't try to change it.

I'm overly sentimental and hesitant and awkward and attached to too many people/things/places.
I want to help everyone pack for college. I really, at this point, do not believe that a new life will start for me next month. I don't believe that it is starting in a matter of days for people or has already started for others. Or, if it does/is, it'll only be temporary, and we'll go back to our respective high schools and complain about teachers and look forward to last period on Friday afternoon. I'm going to be proven wrong, I just wonder how long it will take me to become one with reality and stop living in some random dimension I've created for myself. I've actually been living in it for years, I think. "Real life" (in the depressing sense) has always been something on the side. But now I'm forced to join it.

Okay, I lied.

Tue, 21 Jul 2009 19:21:24 GMT

Temporarily. I was "exploring LiveJournal" as the site calls it, and I started to edit a picture of Damien Rice (the first picture going from the left) and then an earth-shattering thought came to me. What if I instead of stealing 100X100 size icons from various sites, I'd find pictures, resize and edit them myself, and make that the new layout? A different road than the one that took up minutes, hours, days of my time when I used to make layouts every weekend? What resulted last night was a frustrated, horrible mood at a failed attempt. I was so irritated I almost jumped of my skin. I realize this is usually what people say when they get scared, but that's what I felt like doing. I had forced myself into this world of meticulous details and sizes and characters and I wanted to get out. But this morning was a new day, and I finally made what you see at the top. It looks easy enough, but for me, it was the exact opposite. I lied in that I said what my layout would be in the previous entry, but it ended up being something else. I lied temporarily because I might change it sometime in the far off future and make the layout I had initially envisioned.

Enough rambling on that front; I'm afraid I just wasted however many seconds it took you to read that paragraph. Right now I want to make a list of the things I will miss about this house that I've lived in for most of the time I've lived in California, which is about twelve years. Of course we had the crappy house for rent when we first moved, but I don't need to go into that.
I'll miss:
-knowing exactly how much to move my leg out of the way when walking from the sink to the counter to avoid hitting the dishwasher, jutting out when it's open.
-eavesdropping at the top of the first staircase, unseen but hanging on to every word that my family says about various things, hilarious and otherwise.
-how my house is always the perfect temperature, no matter the temperature outside.
-the smell of my house after a long trip. Each house has one, right?
-my room, the biggest bedroom in the house.
-my DVD and book collection, always there for me to admire and squeal at. (Yeah, it makes me that happy.)
-going downstairs after all the lights have been turned off, opening and closing drawers carefully and slowly so not to make the slightest sound and getting myself something to eat or drink.
-the hours I stay up in my room, truly alone in a sense, since everyone else is in a different world: sleep. Those hours have been both some of my best and some of my worst.
-the calm, quiet nights of Palo Alto.
-Mitchell Park at 5 in the winter, 8:30 in the summer, whatever time the sun starts to transform my part of the world, when I go to the library, passing the kids enjoying the best years of their lives, wishing so much I could be one of them.
-my mattress. It's nothing fancy, but I find it the most comfortable mattress in the world. No Tempur-Pedic for me. It also beats those ones for king-sized beds with the springs inside by far.
-Fresh Choice, so familiar, I always know what to expect.
-M2 at Cubberley, where a lot of memories happened.
-the tens of dolls perched on the edge the top of walls (hard to explain) from all around the world, overlooking the kitchen and living room.
-lazy weekends in which I stay in my pajamas and don't shower
Maybe I'll continue this list later. I put in some Palo-Alto-in-general things that I'll miss.

Just to let you know (I don't know who I'm addressing when I say "you"...) I am going to transfer all the entries I write until August to my July file of writing. Since I don't have any due to an orchestra tour/a road trip, I haven't been writing regularly like I have (for the most part) since January to honor my new years resolution. My July document is empty and that worries me because the month is almost over. Which is why I plan to write here everyday, not all of it relevant or insightful, just to have something to read, anything to avoid a gap in my writing year. (Like a lot of cultures have a lunar year, I have a writing year. I like that.)

Rule number 2
Don't be a fool
Rule number 3
Get up off your knees
Rule number 4
Open your door
Rule number 5
Keep it alive
Rule number 6
Don't be pricks
And rule number 8
Don't leave it too late
Rule number 9
Just take your time
Rule number 1
Carpe Diem
-Rule No 2 Y, Damien Rice, bolded my favorites.

Pictures are snippets from my summer travels

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 21:24:57 GMT

My new layout idea: The first line will be movies/TV shows/musicals/anything else I want and the second line will be all about books. Lately, and by that I mean within the last two or three days, books have been determining my mood. Whatever the character in the book feels, I feel. It makes me feel pretty weak, to be honest, but it's a good kind of weak. I don't necessarily like being affected by things so easily, but I don't know what I'd do without it.

A simple outing to Trader Joe's - and certain people or actions definitely made me feel like the 50 year old in the book I'm reading now that cries at the messiness of a girl's braids.
I saw an old Asian woman that needed a walker, my height. Accompanying her was a tall African-American woman, helping her with the groceries. I wouldn't mind doing that, helping people do things they can't do themselves anymore for old age or otherwise. It's a selfless thing to do, and since Trader Joe's isn't Costco, I saw them a couple times throughout the grocery shopping period, every time lingering on the old woman's face, twitching and her mouth trying to form words but failing.

I followed my mom to the wine section, pushing the shopping cart behind her. Black, shiny bottles on either side, tens of different labels and years, nothing I really cared about. Instead, I noticed the people in the same aisle. Almost every adult likes alcohol, right? The two other people in the aisle were so drastically different, yet they were buying the same thing. There was a man, bald with a beard, wearing a red sports shirt, the fabric stretching over his bear belly. I couldn't hear him breathing, but I could tell he's one of those heavy breathers that snore so loud the sound goes through the roof. On the other side of the aisle was a Mother, the sporty kind who goes to the gym and puts her two children at daycare while she burns a few hundred calories. She seemed kind of manic to me, a really fierce expression on her face. Maybe this was from the exertion of working out. Her children were adorable; one was in the shopping cart (the kind that has a seat designed for a toddler) and the other was standing behind the cart, staring up at my sister, never breaking the stare. I watched her eyes follow her. What was going through her head? My sister had a paper cup from sampling a drink in her mouth and was holding it there in between her teeth, maybe this is what caused the wondrous look in the girl's eyes. Back to the wine: The actual type they were buying probably had opposite connotations, but there you have it, humanity united by alcohol.

I haven't been playing piano since my lessons stopped. I tried today and almost gave up, my fingers lacking the quickness and agility they possessed not a month before. It really scared me, but after Trader Joe's I tried again and saw great improvement. Still not like it used to be, but at least I could get through some runs. And I found that I really missed making loud, dissonant, accordant, lyrical, emotional music by pressing black and white keys together with all the strength my fingers can muster. I should never let that much time go by without touching the piano again, bad things could happen, have already happened. But this time, I think I saved whatever I was getting close to losing. Of course I played for an altogether high of twenty minutes, it's enough to let me know "I've still got it." I walked away from the piano, satisfied and triumphant.
I do miss writing here. A short while before I moved to emailing myself and journals, I said to myself, "I'm going to keep my xanga forever." I hope I will be returning to more regular posting in the future.
Wow, I'm so rusty that I forgot the only way to insert pictures is by HTML. The picture below is me at my happiest.

I never really left.

Fri, 10 Apr 2009 02:20:02 GMT

I was just writing in different places. In different ways and times, without icons, about different things.
High school countdown? Down to the double digits. Just recording that as a landmark moment. This is huge.
But that's not what this entry will be about.

Two days ago my teacher told my photo class (only about ten students were listening, the rest off in the darkroom or doing something not related to school on the computer) that for the next two days we'd be watching a documentary on Richard Avedon. Home Vision Arts is a company that makes documentaries on all sorts of photographers. I think we watched the one on Amy Arbus and Annie Leibovitz last year. I remembered lots of black and white images, a series of contact sheets filmed slowly, and many people praising the photographer of the "episode". Maybe from instinct, I groaned with my classmates when she announced that. She was taken aback and said, "I used to love movie days when I was in high school! What's wrong with you guys!"
For about the first ten minutes of the video I was only half paying attention, but the pictures caught my eye. I took my backpack and moved to the front, squeezing by the rows of desks that were placed too closely to each other. Students were texting, sitting forward ostensibly paying attention to the film but really sleeping, or just had their head facedown on the desk because they had nothing better to do. Meanwhile, I enjoyed my seat up close to the big screen, no heads in the way. The next day I was ready to watch the second half of the documentary, completely riveted and fascinated and envious of Richard Avedon's portraits.

Ever since I can remember (but probably before as well, since I had to develop this habit from somewhere) I have had a penchant to write down an interesting facts I hear in movies or quotes that make me smile or people's names I think I'll have to refer back to. Throughout this documentary, I'd be scribbling things in my student planner every which way, squeezing a quote in between homework assignments and random design drawings. I want to organize them here, and elaborate them and connect my notes with pictures that I stared at for as long as they stayed on the screen before they moved to another person talking about the genius and rare qualities of this 20th century photographer.
-fascinated by movement, the human body, especially the face. It has worlds of detail in every wrinkle, every inch of the face makes up some part of their life. And a face can contort in so many ways, the eyes and nose and mouth can scrunch up and elongate to a certain extent and stretch and be manipulated in endless ways - and no face is exactly the same. (Though I have not studied identical twins' faces closely enough...maybe Avedon did.)

-Richard Avedon (1923-2004) tells a story through fashion: gloves, cigarettes, the look on every face: "utter chic boredom". He went beyond the glamour and glitz and flawlessness of fashion and told a story through each photograph. Everyone has a story to tell, even the bystanders, the people that aren't necessarily the subject of the picture but are still present and contributing to the complexity of the photo.
-Nastassia Kinski - model in the snake photo. If you want you should search her name and look closely at the snake's tongue that is kissing her ear - the only time that that happened, Avedon had what it took to capture it. As he said, "Nastassia rose to the moment, the snake rose to the moment, I rose to the moment..." He then made the picture into a poster and sold two million copies.

-One of Avedon's photographic subjects discussed in the movies was Isak Dinisen, a writer who was obsessed with beauty to such an extent that it drove her to anorexia. (Understand that most people I am talking about here I don't really know anything about except what was said in the movie..just a sidenote.) He photographed so many important people of the 20th century from around the 40s to the 90s, I'm guessing. He thinks a photographer's job is to use this weapon called a camera to capture how the world was, to preserve it so kids that are coming into the world know what happened before they were born.
-Ronald Fischer - bee model. Avedon said that it's a Buddhist take on things (I am badly paraphrasing here)...just silently enduring the hardships of life.
-Dorothy Parker in her old age, (in 2002) after her high success is over...someone said "It looks as if all the wit she ever had left her a second before that picture was taken." Avedon brings out the worst in her and that low time in her life will be captured forever.

-great quote: "One of the great joys in life is watching light."
-more names: Duane Michaels, Irving Penn. Last photo is by Duane Michaels. I saw this photograph, saw the name that appeared in white text and then faded and wrote it down before I forgot.

I found myself passionately agreeing with many of the things said by Avedon himself or his art directors/people who have associated with him in the past. Although he is very charismatic and poised and had a vibrant personality, whenever anyone would ask him how he'd describe himself, he'd say, "The most isolated person in the world." Also, watching light never gets old. The way it falls across anything - a leaf, the road, grass, a five-year-old's hair, a hand - studying that is so rewarding and moving. After all, that is all photography is - drawing with light.
I hope that some of these pictures have transfixed you for longer than the time it takes to take a snapshot and I hope I have conveyed how interested and intrigued I was by every single one of his pictures, how this photographer and the documentary itself has reopened my formerly dormant but always stifled fascination about the charm and insight of each human being.

Interesting

Sun, 11 Jan 2009 02:09:28 GMT

Why Not?

Wed, 10 Dec 2008 05:16:05 GMT

I don't feel like posting these on myspace or Facebook, even though that's what I usually do. I just don't think it would be as satisfying.

I took these from annapajama's xangas who does the most unique/random/INTERESTING surveys I have ever seen. The questions go beyond if you're wearing any socks, who the last person you kissed was, if you've kissed someone whose name starts with the letter L, all those generic questions are seldom or never seen in these surveys.

Random Survey
made by [ohWOWsurveys]

1. What are you doing tonight?
I'm going to bed soon...picked up my sister from soccer, had a piano lesson, bought some stuff from Safeway (first time driving there hahaha)

2. What was the last thing you ate? Did you enjoy it?
It was an olive and yes I did enjoy it very much.

3. Would you ever want a bowling alley in your basement?
Nah...if I had anything in my basement I'd want it to be a darkroom!

4. Do you wear hoop earings?
Noo they would NOT suit me at all.

5. Do you know any professional athletes personally?
No but I have a feeling some people in my class will become famous and professional athletes!

6. What color would you design your dream kitchen?
Something fresh but not too bright...Italy colors! Tuscany red haha.

7. What is your heritage?
Israeli. or Jewish. I never got which one to say for which question.

8. If you had the chance to change your name at birth, what would you change it to?
Even though my name is unheardof for most people, I still like it. So I'd keep it.

9. Do you have a maid?
Yeah. We are a very messy family full of slobs (especially me.)

10. Are there any candles burning in the room you're in?
Nope. I used to have one.

11. What was the last animal you touched?
Hmm. Probably a dog, reluctantly.

12. What can you hear right now?
My typing and the heater buzzing.

13. Are you craving anything at the moment?
no. just sleep.

14. Do you need to empty your trashcan?
Hm no, the maids did that. I feel horrible saying that! Geeez.

15. When was the last time you had cake? What kind was it?
Probably after a PACO concert. Some yummy chocolate thing.

16. What are sitting on?
nothing, I'm lying down. I don't have a chair in my room anymore.

17. When did you last have a stomach ache?
Last week. THAT TIME OF THE MONTH taking its toll on me.

18. Where is your significant other at the moment?
Somewhere in the future I hope. I think in a bookstore. :)

19. Have you ever smoked pot? If no, would you?
Never have, don't want to.

20. Who's house did you last sleep at, besides your own?
Aw man. Uhh. NO social life, wow. Drawing a blank.

21. What clothing store did you last visit online?
Absolutely no clue. I hardly ever do that.

22. Is it dark outside?
Has been for like 5 hours.

23. What shoes did you wear today?
blue converse with this star pattern on them.

24. If you could pull it off, what hair color would you want to have?
streaks of sooomething? no I probably would never do that. I don't know, a prettier shade of brown. I'm so mild.

25. Would you ever hire a make-up artist?
Um no, I just think it'd be cool to go on What Not To Wear without going on TV.

26. Do you think you would make a great CEO?
Chief executive....something? No. Is it office?

27. How about a Lawyer?
No, wouldn't be the greatest at that...I am so indecisive and a lawyer has to make a bunch of decisions every day, right? Also, my arguments would get shot down and I'd accidentally agree with the wrong side...I'm that easy to break down.

28. What is the theme of your living room?
Earthy colors (my mom painted the walls haha) and very messy. Lining the shelves are dolls from all around the room my mom has collected over the years from my dad's business trips and our other travels. It doesn't have much of a theme.

29. When did you last watch Boy Meets World?
Last year? I never got into that show, really. I just laughed at the way Cory said "Topanga".

30. Would you like to go to Paris?
Yes, PLEASE. NOW. Let's go.

--

credit goes to: two__hearts

1. If you have ever been transported on a public school's bus can you remember the person who was the first stop?
Gosh, no. Well, last year I took the shuttle and at the first stop there were a bunch of people I didn't know. I remember some middleschoolers got on too and on one rainy day, this kid shorter than me was working his way up to the front to get off and he had his trumpet with him (the case was as big as him) and he went down too fast and slipped on the steps of the shuttle...it was pretty bad.

2. When was the last time you sung the abcs?
I sing that whenever I look up words in the dictionary haha, just in my head. It's easier for me.

3. Have you seen the rocky horror picture show?
Nope...not much of an interest in that.

4. What age would you like to be?
Ten. Please. Make it happen.

5. What was the last prank call you made?
Those are pointless.

6. What does the comforter on your bed look like?
Teals and blues/greens.

7. Do you have a dream wedding dress?
Not at aaall. I want it to have straps though.

8. If you had to pick a reality show to be on, what would it be?
What Not To Wear! (hypothetically speaking) hahaha.

9. What was your first screename?
dassi9 in sixth grade! I still remember my password.

10. What is the last name of you assistant principle?
Mrs. Cowsomething. I can't remember. I've talked to her once in my life haha.

11. What song played from my playlist when you got this survey?
Uhhh you expect me to remember?

12. Do you like most people at your school?
Some. A lot annoy me though. It's high school, you know...I also like a lot of people, as in I would love to get to know them better. It's almost like a paradox.

13. Would you rather have a good boyfriend/girlfriend or get all A's in your classes?
Hahahaha. Let's see what having a boyfriend is like first.

14. What is the picture for april on your calender?
I don't own a calendar.

15. Would you be able to name a brian mcknight song for a billion dollars?
Unfortunately, no. Damn, there goes a missed opportunity.

16. Try to say something more random then this: I murmured to the nuns that Michael J Fox was getting into some trouble with the bush outside of Ronald Mcdonald's house...
I stopped reading that at Michael J Fox. Noooo thanks.

17. What did you eat for lunch today?
I went home and ate bread with brie cheese and then a waffle and then two mini eclairs. Hahah. Oh and some oatmeal. Unhealthy.

18. Who was the last person you hung out with?
Eman came over for a bit. We watched movie trailers.

19. Do you have any weird habits that you do when you are on the computer.
SO MANYY. Unmentionable.

20. What would be the best compliment you could ever receive?
Too much thinking required. Uhhh, well from my sister, it'd be "I look up to you."

21. Is there anything you wish you could have gotten for Christmas?
I want an iMac laptop. Not for Christmas though, just in general. And a macro lens would be amazing. or 18-200 lens. Ahhh.

22. What is your least favorite stereo type? Or do you just hate the whole idea of them?
Most of them bother the hell out of me.

23. What clothing item of yours would you chase after me for if i stole?
Haha clothes aren't that important, just don't take my Rent shirt or any of my shirts...I really like most of them.

24. Do you feel redneck going to wal-mart and k-mart?
Whattt no. How do those connect?

25. Can you sleep with lights on?
I'd rather not, but yeah.

26. Do you have at least 3 friends whose name begins with D?
Uhh I can only think of one.

27. Do you use sunscreen in the summer or do you just tan?
I only put on sunscreen when my mom makes me.

28. What was the reasoning for the last time you did not go to school? (Like on a normal school day.)
Probably a Jewish holiday...Rosh Hashana?

29. Do you have any magnets on your refrigerator?
Yeahh lots.

30. Have you ever been on tv?
No but I've been in the newspaperrr! Oh I was on the announcements (which are broadcasted live on the TVs at my school if that counts haha)

Fatigue is overwhelming. I'm not ready to say goodbye to 2008, no way. I like that number a lot.

NOVEMBER - UC month! not. (cruel length)

Tue, 02 Dec 2008 02:00:41 GMT

Probably the most monumental month of the year. You all know what I'm talking about: the presidential election which made HISTORY. I still can't believe Barack is our president, and while I'm still not an avid follower of politics in the least, whenever I hear the "Barack administration" or "president Obama" I get this rush of something in my heart and I feel safer, even though I can't put my finger on exactly why.
I just have to say that while watching his speech after the ballots had been counted, his supporters shiny-eyed from happiness, there was still a page open on my computer that said "52% yes, 48% no" on prop 8, and the numbers were awfully stubborn, so that even the next day the Yes vote was still ahead. So as the next president of the United States said on the evening of November 4th: "If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer..." tears couldn't help but come. Much to my disbelief, shock, bitter angriness, and most of all remorse, at the end of the next day, it stood at 97% yes, 95% no. To the weeks, even months leading up to the election, I'd tried to imagine what I would do if the prop to take people's rights away and treat the LGBT community as lesser people actually passed. Nothing came, though, except this inner feeling of total doom and an angry cry, "WHY?" But it stopped there. I set up this block that that wouldn't be possible, it'd be too horrible to be true. And then the worst happened.
The best thing though, is how we reacted to the passing of Prop 8. How we took it as a beginning to a new fight, a new movement. It gave me so much to look forward to, instead of dwelling on what we lost. It amazes me, how strong people are.

That takes care of highlights up till November 5th, and now onto the list form. Will only elaborate on what inspires me.
-Just kidding! (Bad planning on my part.) BEFORE the election business, I went to a concert of one of my favorite artists of all time: Jason Mraz. While other music obsessions have come and gone, his is still alive and growing. The concert, however short compared to the two hour opening, was breath-taking, as in it literally took my breath away (excuse my horrible writing) but really, it was indescribable. I don't have any pictures or audio recordings as documentations of the evening, because this guy named Bill took the battery of my Nikon, his reason being that they didn't allow removable lenses. He was old, had that layered type skin around his chin and promised to be there at the end of the concert for me to retrieve my expensive battery. I fumed for a while, actually throughout the entire concert, because I still had the camera, just no battery so it was a useless black THING that I had to carry around with me. When Jason finally came out on stage I was shaking with excitement. Every single note was spot on, his velvet, completely pure voice (both spoken and sung) was utmost pleasure to my ears, to my entire body actually. Like therapy. He made me live outside of myself for a while as I did things I never do. I sang, I danced, I screamed with joy and appreciation. I have written about this concert on many occasions. Hurried ramblings to online friends, a personal note to Mr. A-Z himself, even a little thing on my Wordpress. One thing I mentioned in all was that he made me feel invincible. He really did sound better live than on his CDs, which will never cease to fascinate me. We were sitting on the stairs, far away from the stage and the booming speakers. But on a few songs, I couldn't help myself and went down to the area where the screaming and ear-damaging goes on. When he sang I'm Yours, I raced down the steps and ran to the side where I could see Jason between a speaker and a tall metal contraption on the stage I don't know the name of. I raised myself on my tiptoes and back down to the beat of the music, singig softly at first. Not long after, I was singing loudly, fully, and badly, though I have to say better than the drunk girls next to me who didn't even know what verse he was on. I sang with Jason, the spirit of the evening lifting me out of myself, again, as I noticed a man behind me was singing me. He was singing Jason's part, and I instinctively sang a third higher, Toca's part, and neither of us missed a word, except when the overwhelming beauty and emotion overtook me and I had to take a deep breath. I was having my own little duet with this guy and I smiled stupidly throughout. He probably didn't hear me though, but it was fun all the same. What a dream come true. Jason Mraz probably ten feet away...I could go on forever. "This is a beautiful life no matter what kind of beautiful mess you make it." -Mraz. I went home that night with Gloria and Tammy, who I experienced the amazing concert with, and the next day I wore the shirt, couldn't help looking down at the Polaroid camera with his name in the corner ann thinking "Jason Mraz is close to my heart" like the proud fangirl I am. I think it every time I wear the shirt.
-Nov 8th: PACO concert: one of the orchestra concerts I've enjoyed most ever since 6th grade. The reason? I got to play my favorite piece I heard two years ago at PACO camp: Tchaikovsky Souvenir de Florence. The first time we played through it less than shoddily at rehearsal, I couldn't help putting my violin down and just laughing, how slowly we were playing it with that swinging tempo, this amazing, bombastic piece that I'd grown to love so much. I was sad to part with it at the concert. And this was a rare case: the rest of the pieces weren't that bad either. Usually, the deal is there is one piece out of four that you like parts of. This time, all four pieces were more than enjoyable. Shostakovich, Tchaikovsky, Arensky, Andante (arranged by someone originally by Tchaikovsky)...best program ever. Filled with intense moments that are amazing to be a part of.

-Nov 10th: exposure to "illegal substances". Initially felt thrilled then a feeling, much more dominant, of violation took over. I felt sick with guilt and wanted to go home. I didn't calm down for a long time. This shows how painfully innocent I am. I sent Asher a frantic, long message on myspace which was a large overreaction. At least it got rid of my curiosity for good (or so I think...) you never know. I'll leave that little "event" alone.
-Nov. 15th: I went to SF to take street pictures for my photo project. This was just an idea before, something that I wanted to do. But as I was eating breakfast, (something I have the luxury to do on weekends) I heard that there'd be a nation-wide rally against Prop 8 taking place the next day. I desperately wanted to go, wanted to see what it'd be like to be part of something that huge and influential. Fortunately, my brother's girlfriend, Julia, was kind enough to take my sister and I, the hidden intent being to go to the rally (and take pictures for the project). Dealing with the trains and other forms of public transportation took forever and by the time we got there, they had left City Hall. Though while on the Muni bus to the Civic Center, my heart was racing and I was getting butterflies, like the kind you get when you see someone you like, except these butterflies were huge and turned my stomach in every direction - that's how hyped up and stoked I was. I had longed to go to this type of event for a number of years now. The rest of the day walking around, hoping to run into the march. It was tiresome, but at around 4PM (we got there at 12) Julia saw the march, a huge mass of people with posters and signs doing their best to spread equality. I couldn't see it because a short person's view is severely constricted. We got closer though and suddenly we were in it, except we were going the opposite way from the march. We crossed the street, maneuvered in between cars that were trying to drive through the crowd. Many of them were showing support by honking, one guy made a peace sign with his fingers to show his support. And just like that, we joined the march. I was tired and extremely hungry, I didn't have anything to eat when we stopped at a Mediterranean deli because I was too excited at the possibility of catching up to the march that was going on somewhere in the city. I couldn't believe how many people there were, crowd after crowd after crowd. The front was a lot more boisterous, chanting 'What do we want? EQUALITY. When do we want it? NOW.' and "Gay, straight, black, white, marriage is a civil right." As the chantings petered out, toward the end of the first crowd, people just walked, hand in hand, holding huge signs, the one I remember right now said "This is an Obama nation, not an Abomination." Of course my chanting was subdued, barely audible, I still couldn't believe I was a part of this. I ran up ahead of Julia and Haleli when I saw the flash of the signature rainbow flag, people taking turns waving it back and forth. I love the flag and took as many pictures of it as I could, but my memory card kept on filling up so I don't have nearly as many as I want. It's beautiful, people standing up for what they believe in and REALLY making a difference. I mean, this was NATION-WIDE! I wanted to walk with them until dark but I felt bad for the other two who I'd left behind so eventually I backtracked and found them. We took a break and sat down, and I realized how tired I really was. However, it didn't take away anything from the pulsating pride and wonderful bewilderment coursing throughout my entire body. Again, my words do not do anything justice. It certainly left me speechless.

-Nov 19th: I went to Borders alone for the first time. you could say I have an irrational fear of driving alone to places I've never been to. I came home from school on a Wednesday, having just finished reading Catcher in the Rye with my English class. A girl named Alicia finished off the last page (we took turns reading the entire book in class) and just like that, we were done. No more Holden. I was devastated, now I had nothing to look forward to in English. Then this impulse in me decided that I needed a copy of my own to pore over countless times, underlining and writing my comments and smiley faces in the margins. I took my bag I got in Israel and filled it iwth the necessities: a notebook to write in (couldn't find my journal in this moment of excited franticness) my iPod, two pens, and my film camera. My heart palpitated and my body perspirated as I turned onto the unfamiliar streets, the setting sun blinding me through the windshield. Then, Borders came into view. I shakily parked the car and got out, proud that I was in the lines of the parking spot. I know these are laughable, petty, almost childish accomplishments but they were pretty huge for me and with each step I felt more and more grown-up. There, I said it. First finding the book in the Literature section, sitting and writing about what I was doing for almost an hour, buying the book and saying no thank you when asked for a bag, walking along University Avenue snapping pictures for my street photography photo project, and buying chocolate orange small gelato in a cup for $4.75. I didn't even want it, and shivered with each sweet gelato-spoonful, but it was all in good spirit. I eventually went to the car because it was too cold to be outside and got home, the feeling of accomplishment never weaning.
-Nov 20th-copied from my Wordpress that's a link by the way!: (this is when I was forced to walk home. Full story if you click the link). I had two books in my backpack: Grapes of Wrath - convoluted text, annoying dialogue, thick, with sharp corners on the edges of the cover. And Life After God - small, easy to carry, pages move fast because of the size, and the corners had the plastic covering that all library books have. I took the latter out and started walking while reading, self-consciously at first. But then I got into this element and I barely looked up the entire way home except when crossing streets. I didn’t care who saw me, I was completely engrossed in the narrator’s musings and ramblings and stories about his life and the lives of others.
-Nov 21st: first Serbian party, thanks to my friend. Not unlike Jewish gatherings. Loud, crowded, people of all ages from infancy to the elderly. Wine, too much food that comes in endless quantities, conversation, laughter, late into the night.
-Nov 22nd: finished the journal I started on June 17th. Another accomplishment!
-Nov 20something (I don't care enough to find the date): I turned in my UC apps.
-Nov 25th: Open mic. Great big celebration of talent. Nathan came back and hugged me, which was so unexpected and unbelievably delightful. I had major junior year flashbacks and was sad for a while afterwards. Bittersweet, torn inside.
-Nov 29th: I got to see Janet, who came back from COLLEGE! It's still unreal. I showed her and Milena some episodes of QAF and much to my delight, they liked it. It made me get that warm gooey feeling inside, however weird that is. You guys don't know how much it means to me when you "support" my obsessions.
-Nov 30th: I finally saw Twilight and the Cullen family took my breath away...especially some shots of Edward made me squeal all helplessly...it really is embarrassing but I don't care one bit. They did a great job with showing how beautiful and surreal the Cullens are. Though a bits were almost too cheesy to handle, it wasn't all that horrible like a lot of people said. Book over movie for sure, but I wouldn't mind seeing it again. Edward was almost perfect. I have forgotten the Edward in my imagination because he was never complete, but the one on screen wasn't too shabby. He was very good. Also, before PACO, I did something I never do: I sightread with college-level musicians. They made me, and I'm glad they did. Someone doubled up with me on the second violin part and we played the Brahms Sextet No. 1 in Bb Major, so pleasantly familiar, seeing as I had obsessed over it ever since I heard it at camp. Unfortunately I had to leave to go play my Beethoven quintet for Ben. Music overload, such bliss.

December...already.

Go make a life, not a living.

Fri, 21 Nov 2008 07:02:48 GMT

You know what?
You don't matter at all. Your life is about as insignificant as a pebble.
Your accomplishments don't matter, your troubles don't matter, no one really cares.

Zoom out a little and you'll see what I mean. On a larger scale, are lives are so small. Everything that we are can be summed up on a piece of paper. On the worldly scale, there are forest fires, financial crises of which I know nothing about, historical politics, hunger, poverty, the issues and disasters go on and on. And we are so focused on our lives, or at least I am. I didn't realize how selfish I was until today. We shouldn't be focused on ourselves, we should always try to improve where we live, pay attention to what's happening around us. Even if it's scary, even if it's unsettling. It's what we have to deal with. Except that's much easier said than done.
Here are more things that no one cares about and that you shouldn't waste time writing or thinking about: the fact that you have two pages left in your journal that you started in July, your new friendships, your goals, that your film came out, that you're worried about financial aid, that you wish you weren't shy, that you wish you could write more intellectually, that you could use a boost or two or three in self-esteem.
The only thing that does matter if you do something that lasts. Something worldly. Something that people remember. Which is why I'm so hell-bent on becoming a writer. That way, you can leave something here during your lifetime. In this case, it's OK for your book/story to be about yourself. Because one day, someone might pick it up and be affected by it and take away exactly what you want them to take away from it. (No, I don't now what that is yet.) The point is, you leave an indelible mark on the world, even if it's a small one. The saddening thing is, so many people live a life but they don't really live it. They're born, they experience things, they don't do anything with those experiences, and their time comes to leave. Photography works as well, because you can show other people how you perceive(d) the world, you can make someone stop and think about your photos and change them.

Rambling from the inner workings of my mind. I think these larger than life, worldly, you are so insignificant you shouldn't even try feelings started in English class today when Mr. Farrell read aloud a chapter from The Grapes of Wrath about overproduction and how they had to burn a lot of produce so they could sell for more. I, of course, didn't get the deeper meaning. I never do. But the way Mr. Farrell read it, you were transported back to the 1930s, the world was a desolate, colorless place. Of course I have no idea what this feels like, but I started to feel sick, right there in my seat, in the middle of him reading chapter 25 out loud. The desks were arranged like pews, like we were in a church. It felt too real for my taste.

Seriously, stop focusing on yourself.
I can't.
Selfish.
I know. But I have to do this:
To-do list:
-submit UC apps after people edit them and send act/sat scores (by SUNDAY)
-get a copy of my transcript/recommendation request form from my counselor to give to Mrs. Hogan
-give envelopes to Mrs. Wilson
-do the FAFSA thing (whaaaaaat)
-start CCA/Eugene Lang apps. And also send scores. (due Feb)
-english reading
-sleep.
Tonight's Grey's Anatomy was about sleep, at least the end of it was. They said how it's the easiest thing, all you do is close your eyes and in a matter of minutes, you'll be in that world of repose and serenity. I have a lot more to say, but I won're bore you. The fact is, it wouldn't satisfy me to continue, I'd just read it and think what a load of crap it is, how I'm not getting anywhere with the time I'm wasting that could be spent sleeping.
Gosh. What if I was productive? ~~DIDN'T WASTE time on this pointless thing called THINKING?~~ It really doesn't get me anywhere, I can't say that enough. It just makes me fall deeper, staring at the screen while my eyes seem to harden because they're fighting so hard to stay open. Sometimes it gets dangerously late, so late that I can already call it "tomorrow", and I have no idea why I'm still up. It's disconcerting, really. And here I am, going against what I said before, that I wouldn't continue. I'll stop. I really need better self control. By the way, the icons are of things I care a lot about but they also don't matter. Going along with the theme.

Apologies.

Wed, 12 Nov 2008 04:13:46 GMT

Dear Irena, my piano teacher.
I'm sorry I don't even know how to spell your name. I can tell your expectations for me have dropped drastically ever since I told you I wouldn't be doing CM this year. I'd decided to give up the silver medal and focus on just the playing, no music theory. Except that didn't happen. Nothing happened. You were compassionate enough to not give me a hard time and just called it a pity. I am grateful for your kindness. I'm going to be honest with you and say that I didn't touch the piano since last week's lesson except for a hurried run-through of the Bach Italian Concerto. Not once did I practice the Chopin Etude slowly, or do my arpeggios, or memorized the Beethoven SOnata. And I had plenty of time, too. I did. Except I chose not to use it. I made a conscious decision to not practice. And you had to put up with me making mistakes I never made before, a C# instead of the C which I've played correctly 100% of the time. And this has been going on for a month. I'm setting myself back and you are too nice to me. At the end of today's lesson you said, "Good job." I wish you wouldn't. You probaby think I haven't practiced because of college. I haven't done anything time-consuming for college at all. In fact, now will be the time where I actually have to work. But I promise you, I will be better. I won't let the piano go untouched for more than two days in a row. I realize how horrible this is and I can't say how sorry I am that you had to sit through an hour of me fumbling around, deeply sorry for the past five or so weeks where we do the same thing every week and don't get anywhere. I want you to be meaner to me. I'm lazy and I need some waking up. I'll see you next Tuesday, much better prepared. I'll memorize the Bach, put a quicker pulse into it without making everything heavy, the notes will flow more fluently, I won't make stupid, unnecessary mistakes on the Beethoven, Gershwin, and Chopin. I promise. I'm not going to break this promise.
From your student,
Hadas

Dear mom,
I think you love me too much. It makes me feel guilty. Not because I'm a bad kid, but I'm not that great. I think when you get mad, you don't stay mad at me for long enough. You see, I'm cursed by this laziness. Extreme lack of energy to even get up when you call me. Extreme carelessness. I really can't excuse my rudeness. I'm sorry I don't help around the house, at all, except for those rare mornings where I clean the kitchen and it's already messy by the time you come home. Bread crumbs on the counter, half a tomato laying with its contents gushing out, sticking to the plate, piles and piles of dishes in the sink, unable to be put in the dishwasher because that one is filled with sparkling clean cups and dishes and silverware and bowls. It's a disaster and I should help clean it more than one time in four months when I feel generous. I should help you with laundry, I should talk to you more. I'm sorry I've gotten worse every year, and now I'm at my worst and it's my last year living in your house. I appreciate your love and concern for me and everything I do, your support for me ever since I was put in that incubator. I know I could be a lot worse. But I could be better too.
Love, your daughter,
Hadas

Dear Haleli,
I'm sorry I am not the older sister I should be. You know what I mean, so I won't elaborate. I hope one day I can show you that you do have something to look up to. I'm sorry I'm too much of a sissy to drive you anywhere I've never been to. Hopefully I can overcome that before the end of my senior year and we can go eat dinner after our music lessons someday. Thanks for the times you've let me know the truth. I'm sorry I've broken promises to you. I'm sorry I'm an embarrassment to you, sorry that some of your friends have only ever seen me in pajamas on the weekends. I'm sorry my computer runs my life. I'm so sick of saying sorry. Have a more fun, exciting high school experience than I did, I know you will. Please go to Camp Everytown.

Dear anyone I've annoyed,
Please tell me what I did. I really don't know who I'm talking to. Probably myself...
Yes, I'm reveling in self-pity. It's disgusting.
There are more people but it's too much. I'm afraid if I keep on going I will hit "rock bottom" and somehow suck it up come Wednesday morning...have to look/act presentable at school, in French class writing about some play I know nothing about.

October

Sat, 08 Nov 2008 04:52:09 GMT

Only two more of these after this one and I'll be able to see all I did during the year of 2008. The year before I graduate. That is beyond ridiculous...even when I did the recap every month, I find myself saying ,"WHERE did 2008 go?" We'll see if I can come up with any general highlights/themes of the year when I print out the 12 recaps. It should be very interesting. But it might be anti-climactic...I hope it's not.
I'm writing this late, so it'll be hard to reach back into my memory. I had a lot of doubtful late nights about college, a lot of self-deprecating thoughts crowding my brain. I started convincing myself that this is a joke, that I'm not actually going to college. Sooner or later it'll be revealed and I can breathe again. I'm over that now, having turned in my college packet. It's more official now, it's POSSIBLE. But mid-October these feelings would lead to me writing lyrics from my favorite songs in my journal, coloring them in with pens that don't match well but they were the only ones I had. October started off with the SAT Subject tests, English and French. Failed English, did decent on French. Did not retake English. Will regret that.
Enough with the 3-4 word sentences...

My first entry in my journal during October is about how school wakes up. It's kind of cheesy, but I'll type it here anyway...this entry needs some meat in it.
le 2 octobre, 2008 (I always write my dates in French, I think they look prettier that way than numbers)
"I love this weather, it reminds me of autumn. It's cloudy but not gloomy. Bright skies, the sun is just starting to bathe the entire school in its light. We witness a transformation - each column of the school being woken up by some golden light, and they bask in it because they've been dark and cold for so long. Each column, each department building, each blade of grass is starting to wake up. And the over-all view? Us students are lucky enough to see it. This golden magic slowly creeping up and regaling over the school and beyond. Making lawns glisten and glow, warming buildings after a long night, shining on people's hair and making it shine something brilliant."

One day I came home from school. I decided I needed to finish the book. I think I was already done with The Scarlet Letter so I had some time to read for fun. It was taking me forever to finish Girlbomb, A Halfway Homeless Memoir by Janice Earlbaum. I turned on my heater, ignored the computer, and read on and off. For about three hours. I didn't care that I had instruments to practice, a college packet to do. I read and read, the pages getting less and less as I got closer to the end. I had to drive my sister to orchestra rehearsal when I had about ten pages left. And then I fell asleep. After all that determination to finish it, I fell asleep. Fortunately I finished it before I got to school that day. Mission accomplished. I had a lot of these days where I did absolutely nothing except what I wanted. It's strange, but I guess you have the choice to do this senior year and I took it.

-I watched lots and lots of QAF. Crying, laughing, squealing over the way Emmett dances or going crazy over Brian's witty, sarcastic, horribly cynical but true remark. Falling in love with the show all over again.
-I also felt sorry for myself in the boyfriend department. One night I stayed up till 2AM watching music videos of a certain couple...and wondered what these endless number of love songs were talking about. I want to know. Oh and I ran once. I wish I could find a better way to organize this...but I don't like doing part paragraph and part list, it has to be a uniform format throughout. (Okay, I lied...if I don't do it in lists I have to put icons in every space and it just gets too busy with icons. I already have to upload a lot.)
-Songs I got into: MORE Jason Mraz (more about him in the November recap). Imogen Heap, some QAF Music, Different, Taking Over Me, Wonderful World, Flames, Not Like the Other Girls, Real. All put in my "moment" playlist. A couple nights in a row I was actually shocked into silence, unable to move, by what music was doing to me. Maybe it's what I associate the songs with, the melody of them, the lyrics, or a combination of all of those...it just made me stop. It made me so thankful for something so intangibly ineffable. Yeah, that makes sense...

-Senior Homecoming. I wrote about this earlier, I hope? I wasn't going to get into it. It's nonsense, it's superficial, it's silly...but it's impossible not to have pride for your class at the night rally. If you don't get a swell or spirit for your graduating class, there is something wrong with you. You come home with a scratchy throat and, for some people, a tear-streaked face after having lost to the junior class. It's a huge deal, but it'll blow over. Except you don't think so at the moment. By the end of Homecoming you're exhausted and cannot believe the week is over, it's Friday, and you have to know if your class won Homecoming WEEK, despite the unfair loss of airbands. I went to my first and last football game as well...freezing. Band. Talking. Soda. We actually won the game which was nice. And they announced that seniors won Homecoming, it seemed like nobody heard them. A half-hearted cheer sounded from some popular group of seniors but that's it. Still, it was nice to know. It's hard for me to reconnect to that crazy, emotional,busy weekend..in fact I almost forgot to include it in the recap - it flitted in and out of my mind. Fortunately, it made it in the entry. I don't know what I would've done if I made this entry public and didn't include that crucial week. I feel like John Steinbeck writing The Grapes of Wrath...this recap is 1/3 too long. Sorry. I'm almost done though.
-HALLOWEEN. The two or so weeks leading up to it, I was the most spirited person. Read my blog (also made in October) to find out more: hahahadas.wordpress.com. I carved pumpkins, reminisced about past halloweens, was determined to go trick or treating. But the night of October 31st ended up mellow and gloomy, and I started feeling sorry for myself again. I do that entirely too much. I stayed in my room, hardly said a word to my dad, did basically nothing. My teeth craved for candy the entire night.
-I made a friend in English class. As in, we got past the stage of just saying hi. We save spots for each other, walk together until we part ways (we both have G preps), we talk about things besides English class, we laugh, we're not awkward. I like the stages of friendship, how they progress and before you know it you feel like you can tell them anything. Suddenly this person you knew nothing about the first time you saw them has become like an extension of yourself. And you an extension of them. One and the same. That's how close friends get.

NOVEMBER. Important month. Stay tuned.