it all seems so STUPID

it makes me want to give up
but why should I give up when it all seems so stupid?

a few hours ago, I was sitting in the backseat of a car being driven by a straightedge punk with a social distortion hat and a neckbeard; in the passenger seat was his blue-haired madonna-loving goth girlfriend. that would be the family friends' duaghter and her boyfriend. interesting day indeed. we were all singing along to placebo's cover of "20th century boy", speeding down the highway. this is definitely the moment against which I will measure all other weird moments in the future.

anyway.

ava has heard everything counts again. her new thoughts on it:

i listened to depeche mode more
i actually like it better now
i was actually craving to listen to it more
it's like something you described it once
i didn't like it at first, but then i listened again and now i like it better

I could turn this into "I'm a bitch for not being happy she likes one of my favorite songs" or I could turn this into, well... I don't know. I want to apologize to the spirit of depeche mode, somehow. I feel like the best way to do this is giving 101 lots and lots of love.

two more years. two more years. two. more. years.

this is a rare moment in which I am indirectly involved in something more than observing it. and I am fucking mad. really, really mad. I hate watching things not be appreciated, just... seen as something to go alongside lady gaga. I take music seriously because I haven't got much else to throw myself into. I hope you've enjoyed this rare display of emotion other than apathy or, as c says, sardonic amusement. I hope both for my sake and yours and for this blog's that it doesn't happen again for a good long time. if anyone can figure out what the new tag I just started stands for, you are either a genius or a stalker. congratulations!

bigmouth strikes again

well. ava has heard "everything counts". fantastic. her words on it:

it's different

i can understand why you guys think it's mind-blowing

but it doesn't go under my "OMFG!!! HEADKILLING SPAZZ!!!" category

there you have it. it's different. a short list of things she has said are "different": sleater-kinney, social distortion, silverchair. [sorry about all the ss. they were the best examples I could think of.] so basically when the singer's voice isn't PERFECT by her standards it goes into the "different" category and is shunned and shamed in the future. and by her standards, perfect means sweet and/or auto-tuned [for a girl] or HGRRRRR-y like nirvana [for a guy]. I don't know why we even fucking try anymore.

okay. I just needed to rant there. one of my family friends once told me "mode people are very serious about their mode". she is correct. [though, unlike others, I do think calling them day-pesh commode is pretty funny.] I actually have to call said family friend soon so I'll make this next bit as short as possible.

at my job today someone bought three bags of leafy green shit and ten entire frozen chickens. when he got to the end of the register he looked at me and said "don't ask". right, um, wasn't planning on it.

that god-awful "fireflies" song came on today and I could perfectly hear it. I would have been really mad at my misfortune had a lady not told me about ten seconds later that the toilet paper I was holding could "get laid right there". then I had to try not to laugh. people are great.

facebook mail I adore you

today's post is about the wondrous invention that is facebook mail! some of my facebook friends have viruses, so I've particularly enjoyed these messages I'm getting with subjects like "Promiser me tthat you wiill nver get caughtg againn." and "Hewy! Are you reallyy in tis videwo?" [those are copy/pasted.] but that's beside the point, really.

the point is that I have some legitimate ava quotes today. I've been talking to her, somewhat, via facebook mail. this... I think our conversation here says it all. I'm copy/pasting the dates, too. uh, my facebook is in leetspeak, so...

ava; 4ugu57 13 @ 8:13pm
Check this out. See if you pass it!!!

me; 4ugu57 17 @ 6:18pm
hahaha oh man I got 2... I fail.

ava; 4ugu57 17 @ 8:20pm
That's surprising.

me; 4ugu57 17 @ 9:00pm
I'm blaming it on the fact that a lot of the questions were from soundtracks

ava; 4ugu57 17 @ 10:57pm
*snort* Okay. Whatever floats your boat.

ava; 4ugu57 18 @ 5:34pm
I'm just kidding.

me; 4ugu57 18 @ 5:38pm
hahah, I thought you were. trust me, I did not take offense. [I rarely do.]


I.. have no idea why she freaked out and thought that since I hadn't responded in the last 14 hours I was definitely soooo not speaking to her. I don't know what goes on in her mind at times like this.

still no word on if she's heard "everything counts" or not. jesus, I'm getting anxious. I want to know if she plans to condemn it for its lack of owl city-ness or decide it's her OMG NEW FAVORITE THING EVER and put it on a playlist next to beyonce.

it's epic like a combination of harry potter and hot sexy vampires!

story time! this merits a new tag.

a couple years ago [like when I was in 7th grade] my mother got REALLY into ryan adams. as such she now had a new division of friends. before, it was the Springsteen People, who sometimes overlapped with the U2 People, and then the Pearl Jam People were a completely different story. but then she got a whole bunch of Indie Ryan Adams People.

giving into the peer pressure of said indie people, we got a subscription to paste. my mind was, like, blown. even if I didn't understand entirely what was going on with this, I found it amazing. eventually the subscription ran out and no one bothered to renew it. recently, though, I've been reading their website. [because, y'know, I actually know most of the bands now.] and I came across this. band names made passive-aggressive.

now here is where this becomes related. every one of those sounds like something ava would say in daily conversation [minus the fact that she's probably never heard of most of the bands]. I definitely heard the first one in her voice, punctuated by her trademark exasperated sigh. this explains so much. she's a passive-aggressive person, whether she realizes it or not. and she pretty much insists that she doesn't.

I really can't come up with a good conclusion for this. well, as I'm typing this I'm listening to the radio and "policy of truth" is on! this makes me happy. also, this paste article made both C and I cry with laughter.

I just realized the post title probably makes no sense. well, it makes sense to me.

updates on the demode front

1. apparently ava did not remember any of the name, let alone how to spell depeche. she is doing some asking-around-facebook for the song. good fucking luck.

2. I told my dad about the owl city comparison. his response was "yes, they're just like owl city! ONLY GOOD." he then proceeded to sing "personal jesus". I love my dad.

3. I bribed C into doing this post. this whole thing took place from about 9 to about midnight... that should tell you everything


hair chorus derp

update:
4. allegedly c sent the song to ava and ava has done nothing. c surmises she won't even listen to it. well, this solves my problems...

margarita mix, the game of life, dinosaur jr, and no sleep ['til brooklyn]

the drinky-drinky party is over. we have all survived, as expected. also as expected I feel like utter and complete shit, but we'll get to that. oh, and this post will be really long because I didn't sleep and a lot of shit went on.

I brought c to shane's house. the "party" was well underway. and by "well underway", this time I mean "watching forrest gump". and then when forrest gump was over, watching I am sam. ava and her sister arrived 3/4 of the way through forrest gump and were all like "HAS JENNY DIED YET?" they both really hate jenny, apparently.

drinks were made! we were all given a plastic martini glass. I'll take a picture of mine later. [oh, procrastination. so good at this.] we had a good time washing them out every time we wanted a new drink. we went through pitchers of sangria, margaritas, mojitos, strawberry daiquiris [which ava was REALLY enthusiastic about], and pina coladas. c and shane and I ended up playing life at 1 am, and that was when they fed us the mojitos, which was not the greatest decision ever, but we'll get to that.

after I am sam was over, someone brought out guitar hero! oh man. shane regaled us with the tale of how she ended up with two guitars and a microphone and drums, so... long story short, we played a few rounds of guitar hero. we suuuucked. I mostly played bass [since I want to in real life]. I think everyone got to sing a song of their choosing except c, who really wanted dinosaur jr, but no one would put up with the trippy speedups. we were left alone because we were determined to play it. this was a weird situation, seeing as 99% of the time it's like "oh my god, guys, STOP BEING ANTISOCIAL, GET OVER HERE AND TALK TO US ABOUT GLEE!"

then it was 1 am and somehow we were playing the game of life. we being me, shane, and c. everyone else was playing world of warcraft [no, I don't understand either]. oh, that was fun. I won because I cheated. they gave me a mojito, which was apparently really funny to watch.

me: "this isn't another fucking girly drink, is it?"

mary: "no, it's a mojito!"

me: "girly." -takes a sip- "NOT... GIRLY..."

mary: -laughs at my misfortune-

man I don't even know if that minty shit was necessary. at least not at 1 in the morning when I had just won life by selling off my children to shane but collecting the retirement bonuses anyway.

everyone was sent down to shane's room, and everyone except c, mary, and me went into a different room to "contact" things with the ever-present group ouija board. that thing needs to die already. the group I was in instead watched the paid programming channels. infomercials at 2 am are VERY, VERY FUNNY. c kept scrolling through the channels until we found the telenova one!

spanish soap opera + 2 am + us = ???

it featured lots of crying people and an overenthusiastic man. oh dear lord I don't remember much of it but I know it was great. eventually we were told to stfu and everyone migrated back into shane's room. we talked a lot! we vowed to stay up as late as possible [bad idea]. I ventured upstairs several times, because apparently I was the only one not freaked out by the prospect of going up to a very obviously empty [and creepy-looking] kitchen late at night. so I ended up bringing many things downstairs, including but not limited to: 2 bottles of soda, 6 martini glasses, 1 bag of chips, 1 tin of dip, and 1 cat.

that is why I feel like shit. I drank the entire bottle of ginger ale. everyone else had some kind of fruit punch thing, and no one wanted the ginger ale. at 2 am it seemed like a good decision... I mean, I love ginger ale and no one else wanted it. by 7 I was like "uuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhh". yeah, not pleasant.

ava had the fantastic idea that we should all sing songs that were on our ipods! I came up with this. when the whole thing dissipated into a cacophony of six people all singing different songs at once I thought to myself, "depeche mode would be great now." this song is insane at 3 or 4 am or whatever it was. I had c listen to my favorite mode song, and she practically had a seizure over how amazing it was. we were all really, really tired. then ava said, "guys, I have an idea. I'm gonna get my musical education just by listening to you two talking."

shhhhiiiiiiitttttt.

ava is notoriously famous for hating EVERYTHING that isn't ass-rock [c asked me to define ass-rock. here you go: ASSFUCKINGROCK] or jesus-rock or people with "perfect" voices or the latest muse cd [because they were in twilight, see? everything before twilight sucks though!]. it being somewhere between 4:30 and 6 am now, my protecting-my-favorite-songs-from-abuse senses kicked into hyperdrive. she asked what we had been listening to and I reluctantly told her. c explained that it was all synths, and ava asked, "so it's like owl city then?" yeah, that about did it. I was PISSED then. REALLY PISSED. and really tired.

at 6:30, c, ava, and I got up and went outside. the sun had risen and the clouds were all pretty. it was really nice. shortly thereafter I began feeling like shit and curled up into a little ball on the floor and slept for half an hour.

good party. relatively drama-free. hopefully ava can't figure out how to spell depeche.


edit:


also, because shane and mary have short attention spans, they drifted off while ava was talking sometime last night. ava was infuriated by this and began to spout complete nonsense ending in "I'LL JUST KEEP DOING THIS BECAUSE NO ONE'S LISTENING TO ME."

jesus, some people can't handle the pressure.

we're the stooges, our typical song has 11 words, and after an hour and a quarter you want us to leave

"I wanna be your dog" has exactly 23 words in it that are not prepositions or repetitions. oh, iggy. creativity win.

also, the drinky-drinky party is tonight. shane called me at ten o'clock or so and woke me up [I stayed up until 3 in the morning listening to the clash. as I recall I drew a picture to illustrate the smiths' "cemetry gates" too]. I did not answer. I will call her back and we'll see how that goes.

I should probably link to those songs, but I have the radio on right now. I'm not turning it off. I'll edit them in later.


edit:
when I called her she told me to bring a bag of ice and club soda. what...

a dreaded sunny day, so I'll meet you at the cemetry gates
iggy pop is feeling particularly intelligent today
I love that whole first clash album but this song is especially awesome to me at 2 am. have I mentioned I hate my job?



this cemetery needs more trees... well, I was tired.

the cure; or, why I like going to bed at 1 AM

warning: this post has nothing to do with any of my previous posts except the one directly before it. consider it a window [that nobody wants] into my creative suburban life. but hey, if st. clair can go off rambling sometimes, we all can.

during the school year I usually go to bed at 10:30 or earlier. I get up at 6. school officially starts at 7:45 but if you're not there at 7:25 you're in deep shit. just so my bedtime makes sense here. during the summer, though, I usually end up going to bed at 11 or 11:30 or so. this is acceptable for my mother. but in the last week or so, I haven't been following that. it looks like this:

sunday: go to bed at midnight
monday: go to bed at 11; have to work tomorrow
tuesday: DON'T HAVE TO WORK UNTIL FRIDAY; STAY UP 'TIL 1 AM
wednesday: 1 AM IS GOOD!
thursday: have to work tomorrow, supposed to go to bed at 10.

that's where our story starts. I have to be awake and ready before 9:40 on tuesdays and fridays to go to the library. this time my mother thought it would be an excellent idea to pull me right out of the cycle of staying up until 1, and expected me to crash right at 10.

so I went upstairs [my computer's in the basement] at 10. I paced around the living room until the cat bit me. then, excitingly, I finished the book I was reading! by then, it was 11 or so.

I got all excited because I hadn't yet crossed the magical threshold that is 11:30. there are so many songs I've banned myself from listening to after 11:30 because they make me freak out and panic. however, I also need to realize that maybe 11:00 is a good tipping point too. I start to lose some, uh, lucidity after 11.

at that time I looked around my room and though, "man, I should go to bed." but then... I saw them. my beloved highlighter collection.



I WAS SO EXCITED. I love highlighters so fucking much. [if it doesn't look like a lot, consider most people own maybe two highlighters at a time and that they're both yellow.] I decided immediately that I needed to do something with them. preferably tying into what I happened to be listening to at the time.

A Brief History of Me and the Cure

age 11: we hear "just like heaven" on the radio. my dad is like "this is my favorite song!!!" and turns it up so loud that my ears bleed. I decide I must find this song again because it's the best thing ever to my 11-year-old ears.

age 12: I encounter a sketchy caseless disc entitled cure - greatest hits in my dad's handwriting hidden in our cd collection. I promptly steal it.

age 14: the cure show up in my graduation-from-middle-school present. I know that sounds weird. my present was 6 cds.

age 15-16: my dad basically ties me to a chair and makes me listen to mixed up.

thursday night:



I know. it's completely inappropriate for being one of the three bands that people who feel sorry for themselves listen to. but unlike the two implosions of self-hatred in that trio [the smiths and joy division] some cure songs are kinda happy. and this is probably the best love song ever.

that was my rationale. yeah, it's a fucking cloud made out of a page of my driver's ed handbook... so sue me.

when I looked up at my clock it was 11:29. imagine how happy I was that it wasn't 11:30. I swear.

me at 11:29: can still withstand creepy punk!

me at 11:30: I NEED TO LISTEN TO THE B-52S RIGHT NOW.

so that was exactly what I did. I sat there and listened to the b-52s and suddenly everything made sense. kate piersen's hair was understandable. fred schneider seemed like an awesome person. "love shack" made loads of sense that it really doesn't during the day. I thought "hell, I'm never going to bed. I don't need to. I- AM- LIVING- ON- CHANNEL ZEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" yeah. I was having a great time.

then I made the mistake of going off to new order land and listening to this. I realized I had no idea what the hell was going on.

it was then that I made myself go to bed. I fell asleep at 1 AM as usual. my mother's plan failed. but at least I got a little-kiddish thing I've dubbed Cure Cloud out of it.

ps: I will probably have a smiths-y post like this sometime in the future. as much as I love the cure, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the smiths. /socialoutcastteenager I'm not depressed. how could I be depressed when I'm going to see matt & kim in november?

robert smith, like excel, is also my friend

I have to go to bed early tonight, as per order of My Mother. this is because of my real job, which would be bagging people's groceries. I know it has nothing to do with the subject of this blog but this is MY blog.

so I would just like to say that hyperactive me is used to going to bed at 1 AM! and since my mother has been trying to cut that down to 10 pm the past few days with no in-between, terrible shit is happening! I already explained to c what happened last night. I will post that full story, with pictures from my piece-o-fuck camera, tomorrow.

basically what happens is I say "fuck you" to everything around me and listen to the cure. then it's 11:30, and I'm screwed. 11:30 for me is a magical threshold. my brain just goes into reverse at 11:30. but... tomorrow.

typical girls

don't create, don't rebel

pvg in a nutshell, courtesy of ska-punk from 1979

the band is crazy.