Monday July 28, 2003 (11:30 PM)
Music - A Complicated Song, by Weird Al
Daddy is very sick. After one bottle of pills, a refill of that bottle, and a truckload of cough drops, he's still not feeling well. He went to the doctor's again today and got more medicine. His unhealthy sleeping and eating habits are certainly taking its toll. Poor Daddy...
So I know this is going to sound stupid, but tell me if I'm crazy or not. There are things in the past that, once you get over them, are locked away. Like maybe that time you broke Grandma's favorite vase and your brother got blamed for it. You seal up the guilt. Or when you lost your favorite stuffed toy, so you ignore how much you miss it, instead choosing to remember only how happy its little plush face was. Everything is dandy.
Then one day, something reminds you of the incident and all that was hidden away suddenly pops up. You don't even notice it coming up and all of a sudden, bloop, you just said it. Then you wonder to yourself why the FUCK did you say that for? It's almost as if your subconscious said, "Hey, I'm tired of sitting here being subtle. Let's spice things up by pulling THIS string, okay?" Then it looks for the part of your brain that's the most carefully tucked away and folded up and hangs it all out to dry in different parts of your head.
Well, that's me. You know when they cut the big red ribbon at opening ceremonies and the crowds rush in? That's what just happened. A bunch of things in the past decided to have a coup of the present and they just won't leave. I don't know if it's a good thing or not. Some things were stored up there because they were bad. But some things were there because they were too good. You'd think that nothing could ever be equal to that again, so you put it in a pretty little box and leave it up on a pedestal for a long, long time.
Now back to the floodgates I was talking about before. Recently I was reminded of something I had tied up in that pretty little box. Except this time, instead of reminiscing about how nice it was, I thought that maybe there IS better. It's such a nice thought. =)
But you see, there was a reason that this wonderful thing was boxed up. It's because in order to reach something greater, one must take a greater risk. And that is exactly what I've been wondering about. How much would you give up for something uncertain?
--Tsunami
Friday July 25, 2003 (7:06 PM)
Music - Hash Pipe, by Weezer
Friday Five
- If your life were a movie, what would the title be?
I'm bad at titles. I think I would call it "Cherry : The Movie, Not The Fruit" - What songs would be on the soundtrack?
Ooh...okay, I'd have Bachelorette by Bjork, The Hell That Is My Life by Zebrahead, Come Out and Play by Offspring, The Closest Thing by Juliana Theory, Thank You by The Calling, and Sunlit Garden from the Utena Series. - Would it be a live-action film or animated? Why?
It would be animated because I would want to glorify myself =P People in animated films always look better then real people. Makeup and airbrushing can only do so much. When you draw the person, it's all perfect. Except for certain scenes in Utena where the characters are all stretched out. - Casting: who would play you, members of your family, friends, etc?
Well, if it's animated...I don't know many voice actors. For my sister and myself, there would hafta be actresses who don't use squeaky voices. That's all. - Describe the movie preview / trailer.
Trailers are always better than the movie. Mine will be no exception. The movie will suck, but the trailer will be awesome and make everyone wanna come see it, but when they finish seeing it, they will leave the theatre feeling like they want their money back. Yup ^_^
Every day when I come home from work, I take the subway from Greenpoint to Port Authority, then I take the 77 bus back to Jersey. The bus driver of the 77 is starting to recognize me! I was sleeping on the bus and I would've missed my stop, except he stopped and told someone to wake me up because he knew I got off at Kings. What a nice man ^_^
--Tsunami
Monday July 21, 2003 (7:25 PM)
Music - Everytime You Need Me, by Fragma
Yup, a new layout because David Duchovny was getting boring. I was too lazy to do anything except change the images and colors around. Yeah, I am the lazy-master.
Doing menial labor at Daddy's isn't so bad. June said I looked like Pucca yesterday. Everything else is just dandy and all that other stuff that isn't important to anyone but me.
--Tsunami says that "every time you need me you know I will be there."
Saturday July 19th, 2003 (1:14 AM)
Music - something, anything by Watashi Wa
I love Watashi Wa, and my current favorite is this one. Don't you love it when some of the lyrics seems especially poignant to you because it applies in a way that other people probably wouldn't understand? I love it.
"With Love From Me To You"
Make the world new,
Things you dream to do,
With love from to you
Well I've had a thousand dreams, but never one like this,
And I've felt a million things, but never felt quite, quite, like this.
So tell me, what's your name?
And what's inside that heart of yours?
Tell me everything, just talk and I'll listen,
Just talk and I'll listen.
Come love, see the earth spin,
Watch the colors collide, with hope at our side,
All that is mine, with love from me to you.
Girl, tell me what's your dream, and I'll be there,
To serve your every need, yes, your every care,
All I have is his, and all I have I'll give.
Morning meets with songs, sung like I've never heard,
And all the smells and sights that bright my life
Can't contain this joy unheard.
So tell me, what's your name?
And what's inside that heart of yours?
Tell me everything, just talk and I'll listen,
Just talk and I'll listen.
Come love, see the earth spin,
Watch the colors collide, with hope at our side,
All that is mine, with love from me to you.
Girl tell me what's your dream, and I'll be there,
To serve your every need, yes, your every care,
All I have is his, and all I have I'll give.
Make the world new.
Things you dream to do,
With love from me to you.
Just talk and I'll listen, talk and I'll listen
Come love, see the earth spin,
Watch the colors collide, with hope at our side,
All that is mine, with love from me to you.
Girl, tell me what's your dream, and I'll be there,
To serve your every need, yes, your every care,
All I have is his, and all I have I'll give.
Girl, tell me what's your dream, talk and I'll listen.
Girl, tell me what's your dream.
I don't know how long it's been since I've felt ridiculously happy like this. Probably too long. I wanna hang onto it for as long as it will last. Anyway, as silly and trite as this has been, that's all I have to say.
--Tsunami is sleeping early (before 2 AM) tonight!
Monday July 14th, 2003 (3:37 PM)
Music - Let's Spend The Night Together, by Rolling Stones
I got an anonymous commenter! I would plug him/her but s/he didn't leave a link. Too bad. In case you haven't read it, here it is:
I do not like you for two (2) reasons, maybe three (3).
Anonymous | 07.12.03 - 9:04 pm | #
Well, GEE, don't keep me in suspense or anything! You tell me you don't like me and then you just go away. Come on, don't you wanna tell me why? Just because you're at Harvard doesn't mean you should hide behind the "Anonymous." Where's the courage? Tsk, tsk. Oh, and thanks for pointing out that two = 2 and three = 3. I can write coherent English, but I didn't know that. I'll be sure to add that to my list of little-known facts.
Speaking of Harvard, did any of you read the story about Blair Hornstine, the girl who was valedictorian in Moorestown? If you haven't, pick up the Sunday July 13th issue of the Star-Ledger and turn to the Perspective section. Or just search for it online. For you lazy people, I'll write the story here.
Blair Hornstine suffered from a disability (chronic fatigue / immune system disorder) and she was home-schooled for most of high school. She had extra time to take tests, had more free time for extracurriculars, was not required to take more than one test a day, and teachers would make adjustments on due dates when her parents said that Blair was significantly fatigued. From this arrangement, she ended up with the highest GPA in her school. The superintendent wanted to declare Blair and the runner-up, Kenneth, as co-valedictorians. She sued to be named the sole valedictorian and also for $2.7 million in damages. She successfully got an injunction that named her the one and only valedictorian, but in the process became the most-hated student in town. She was originally supposed to go to Harvard, but a local newspaper discovered that Blair had not fully cited her sources in articles written for that paper. Harvard revoked its offer of admission.
Blair had an great record. She was involved in a ton of volunteer work and won over $65,000 in scholarships. She also did Model Congress, debate, and moot court. On top of this, her grades were still amazing. Parents of other students began to complain that her special arrangement gave her an advantage and that GPA comparisons were not fair. Superintendent Kadri met with Blair's father, Judge Hornstine, to discuss this. According to Kadri, Judge Hornstine said that he had been salutatorian in high school and didn't want Blair to face the same embarrassment. Judge Hornstine also allegedly said that he would manipulate the rules protecting disabled students to benefit his daughter. However, the assistance superintendent who was at the meeting denied that Judge Hornstine ever made those statements.
Kadri thought that Blair had an unfair advantage because her homeschooling allowed her to "take as many AP or Honors courses as she wanted to" since she didn't have scheduling conflicts. He also believed that home tutors were more lax about grading than some regular AP teachers. He decided to declare co-valedictorians, but before the board had a chance to meet, Blair sued. Petitions circulated in Moorestown and online supporting Kadri and urging Harvard to revoke admission. Blair's house was egged twice and paintballed once. She did not attend her graduation.
Some people believe that Blair and her father did manipulate the system. For example, Blair took Latin I in both middle school and high school and scored an A+ the second time. She also took AP US History with a teacher whose policy was to never give out an A+, but she dropped the course and finished it the next year with a home tutor, who gave her an A+. Blair had taken gym in her freshman and sophomore year, but ended up waiving gym for the rest of high school because of medical problems. Her father wanted the grades for gym in 9th and 10th grade dropped even though they were A and A+ because gym was not a weighted course and would drag down her GPA. Just before final GPA's are calculated, Blair dropped AP Euro because according to her father, the workload was too heavy for her. She was receiving an A- in the class at the time, which would have been "one of the lowest grades of her high school career."
The Philadelphia Inquirer reported in late May that Blair's father is the real power behind her volunteer work. Volunteer coordinator Kristin Valente said "I have dealt a lot with her father because we're open during school hours...A lot of times it would be their father delivering [food donations]."
A few members of the community believe that Blair is not truly disabled. Blair's older brother was the valedictorian as well, and some believe that Blair's father pressured her so much that she became a "nervous basket case."
Well, there's the story. So what do you think?
--Tsunami hopes that you will forgive any typos in this long entry
Friday July 11th, 2003 (4:07 PM)
Music - She Has A Girlfriend Now, by Reel Big Fish
Friday Five
- Do you remember your first best friend? Who was it?
She was an Egyptian girl who happened to be in a few of my classes. I remember her because I later realized that I was just desperate for a friend since I just moved to Nutley and that I didn't really like her at all. - Are you still in touch with this person?
No, and I'm glad. She turned out to be very superficial and not very bright. - Do you have a current close friend?
Just my sister dearest. - How did you become friends with this person?
We were born into the same family. What luck! ^_^ - Is there a friend from your past that you wish you were still in contact with? Why?
In light of the fact that my past friends don't want to remain in contact with me, no, I don't want to remain in contact with them. They weren't really friends with me anyway. They tended to be friends in a big group and I was the outcast.
On my way to pick up June from smart camp, I stopped by CVS to pick up a bag of roasted and salted sunflower seeds. Next time, I'll buy the ones that are roasted and UNsalted. I have eaten 3/4 of the bag, which originally held 163 grams of seeds. When I first started eating them, I held them in my fingers and cracked them with my teeth. As I started chatting with more people online, it became hard to type with one hand, so I learned to put a small bunch of seeds in my mouth and hold them in my left cheek, release one, split the shell, eat the seed, keep the shell in the other cheek and spit them all out later. This was extremely good for chatting. I was so proud of myself.
This method, however was not so good for my sunflower seed holding cheek. It soon began to tingle from the sodium being absorbed through the wall. I thought the solution to this would be to switch between using the left cheek and right cheek for shells and whole seeds. This solved the problem of the burning cheeks
After a while my tongue started to sting from the salt as well. They say that pain is the body's warning signal. Well, if the pain was a red light, then I ran one. I polished off most of the bag (this must be so bad for me) in a very short time and now my tongue hurts like hell. But I can't just stop, because then the rest of the seeds will be neglected. I mean, If i could put up with the pain for the other seeds, I can't disrespect those in the bottom of the bag by giving up. That would be discrimination. It's not their fault that they're at the bottom. So, I have to eat them all. And as I'm typing this, I am shelling seeds in my mouth. I must go on and I must bear the pain...for the seeds!
The bag of sunflower seeds says "Eat. Spit. Be Happy." I am very happy. Sunflower seeds are like finding money in your pocket. I am so high on these.
--Tsunami
Wednesday July 9th, 2003 (6:07 PM)
Music - Here I Go Again, by EType (great song, go get it!)
I just got back from the NYU freshman orientation. I'm really glad it's over because being forced to socialize makes me nervous. I also missed my computer. Hugs for technology. Superhugs for my music stash.
One thing that I really hated about the orientation was the way they divided everyone up into small groups and scheduled so many times for us to meet with the groups. I felt like they wanted me to be friends with those specific people and wouldn't let me get away from them. The people are nice enough, but the forced closeness (and stupid group activities) didn't help the situation any.
I registered for all my classes there. I feel like such a slacker compared to some other students. The people on the pre-health track hafta take chemistry, which includes 5 components. I think it has a lecture, a lab, a recitation, and some other stuff that I can't remember. Chemistry takes up a huge chunk of their schedule. My schedule seems so lax and empty compared to theirs. I don't have any classes on Friday and I only have one class (French) on Tuesdays. My earliest class is 9:30, but most are 11ish. Oh man, I love that place already.
Another thing that I adore about NYU is how liberal it is. Everything is acceptable cuz there's always been something more wild that's happened before. As I was waiting for the elevator to go to my room, I was talking to two girls and a guy. We were discussing jobs and plans to find employment in the city and the guy said that he'll just be a model. Anywhere else, people would've acknowledged that he was kidding and chuckled, but we were just like :::nodnod::: modeling, that's cool.
One thing that's scary about NYU is how many scams are floating around in Washington Square. The people that I ate lunch with decided to walk around the city. When we finished, we sat down on a bench in the park. A blond lady approached us and said that she represented some spa. She said "I'm looking for attractive women who might be interested in this special offer." (blatant flattery...sounds shady already). She offered some package deal with hair cut, consultation with all sorts of beauty specialists, makeovers, spa sessions, etc. She gave us a brochure and continued on about how the package was worth several hundred, but she was offering it for $60. Sounds like a good deal, =P as if
At this point, we knew weren't going to take the offer, so I started making up excuses. I told her that we were in the city for freshman orientation (truth) and we didn't have that much money on us (truth). She said that she'd accept checks and credit cards too. To make her go away, one of the other people said that make sometimes in the future we'd stop by the spa and take a look, but since we don't live here yet, we weren't sure. At this point, she said no, that we had to settle the money with her that day, right then and there. That's when I figured it was a scam. If it's really a spa, why isn't it okay for us to visit later? She wanted cash / check / credit card, but she couldn't wait to have it another day? Silly woman, don't try to fool us! NYU students are supposed to be smart! I am so smart! S-M-R-T! (© Little Rascals).
--Tsunami wishes you a cheesy day...so HA to Irene and YAY for Danielle!
Friday July 4th, 2003 (1:26 AM)
Music - Too Bad, by Nickelback
For some reason, all of the people that I talk to online late at night are already sleeping. So, I am blogging because there isn't much else to do. It's kind of comforting to blog even though I don't know who really reads this. I feel like I have a little piece of me out there in case I suddenly disappear.
My father (who never comes home from work) decided that today would be a good day to come home. Now, if a person rarely comes home, but on the 4th of July he does, don't you think it'd be a good opportunity to spend some time with his family? Instead, he decides to watch some Bond movie that was playing on TV. I went to the fireworks with my mother instead. The display is pretty much the same every year, but there was one nice one. There was a red star ///.^ pretty pretty!
Usually the fireworks display ends in some grand finale, but it stopped after a disappointing fizzle this year. People were confused and didn't know if the show was over or not. Turns out that somebody got burned by falling embers and the show had to be called off in the middle. I feel so bad for the person who got burned. Not only did s/he get injured, s/he also got the fireworks cancelled on account of him/her. =( Poor guy/girl.
Altoids Citrus Sours and Tangerine Sours are the most amazing things ever. Get some now.
--Tsunami wishes you (and herself) some good luck.
Thursday July 3rd, 2003 (11:10 PM)
Music - Pushing Me Away, by Linkin Park
Tomorrow is the 4th of July! Not that it has any special significance for me...I just like fireworks. You know what I love best about them? When they go off with the loud boom that you can actually feel. It's like being punched in the chest. You feel it reverberating inside even though the ground doesn't shake. It's great!
Otakon is coming up in August on the 8th, 9th, and 10th. It's in Maryland, and I'd love to go. It's about $50 for a weekend pass. If anybody else wants to take a little weekend road trip up there with me, it'd be great to get lots of people to go. Also, does anyone have ideas for a good cosplay? I am utterly lacking in inspiration.
Here is Lily's poem. I always liked her writing.
Roadside Diners and Christmas Air by Lily Yu
Neon lights brighten
the faces of gas station attendants
who wear gloves with the tips cut off,
the first snow falls
unseen by the truck drivers
with rust-colored beards
and calloused hands.
they haven't shaved for weeks.
the jangle of the convenience
store door
reminds them of Christmas mornings
and the families they left behind
they start off their engines
to the rise of the moon
and breathe in life
with a sigh of the styrofoam
coffee cup
and the stale bite
of a powdered donut.
roadside diners
are comfort havens,
blueberry pie
a quarter a slice
and chocolate ice cream hovels.
old waitresses in dirty aprons
make small talk
with the worn travelers,
but they don't care
and the drivers know this,
but pretend they don't.
bad country music
keeps them company
with the pine tree air freshener
that hands from a faded inside
they pull over onto
18 wheeler rest stops
and sleep
with arms folded over their chests
hats pulled over their eyes.
no one wonders if they're lonely.
Here's another layout for you to look at. It features Hiead Gner from Pilot Candidate aka Candidate for Goddess. I like this one better than the blue one, but not by much. The buttons on the side look disconnected to me. What do you think?
June is cool.
--Tsunami wants fireworks!
Tuesday July 1, 2003 (12:49)
Music - Pretty Girl, by Sugarcult
It's a new month, which means last month's old entries are archived away. Hurrah for July!
I was reading through this year's edition of Inner Voices, the school's literary magazine and I really hafta give credit to Emily for doing a good job. The reason I'm mentioning Inner Voices is cuz I wanna post up a poem written by Matt Diamond. I thought it was extremely good. Those of you from Livingston probably already read it, but here it is for those of you who haven't.
For The First Time by Matt Diamond
The aging wooden floor beneath my feet.
Its wood was cut
by an elderly man from Maine.
One starry night he took his ax
into his old, gnarled hands
and felled the tallest tree.
He split its wood into smaller logs,
then went inside, kissed his wife goodnight,
and passed away in his sleep. Before
he died, he dreamt of buffalo
crossing the Great Plains of Kansas.
Some things I cannot say.
Where do rivers end and oceans begin?
Your heart is an ocean, and your eyes
glimmer like the moon over river water. Sometimes
I see you in leaf or a sparrow. Sometimes in shapes.
Even the wind carries your laughter.
When I was in seventh grade
my English teacher informed us
that her wedding was off. “I thought
he was my friend,” was all she could say. In her tears
I saw reflected a profound pain. She was human.
Her disappointment was our own. The promises
of tomorrow had been burned at the root
by a terrible flame, and we had nothing to show for it.
Nothing but the piles of ashes in our hands.
Sometimes the trees call out to me, beckoning,
as if to say, “Here we are, and here you are. We
are both formed of the same substance.” I can feel it
pulling deep inside of me. I want to cry out in the
middle of the night. I want to run through the twilight rain.
What drives a man to such passion? Is it hate or love?
Sometimes I wake up and feel neither. Sometimes
I feel everything.
After her husband died, the old woman
sold his logs to a nearby lumber mill.
The wood eventually found its way to a small
college in Vermont, where it was cut into planks
and made into a floor. One day
a young boy from Jersey stepped onto this floor
and fell in love for the first time.
I also thought Lily's poem was very good, it's a relatively late hour and I don't feel like typing it up. Maybe in another entry I will. Remind me.
Wanna help me out a bit? Click here and take a look at the layout. Tell me what you think of it, if anything needs to be fixed, stuff doesn't line up, aesthetic glitches, etc. Anything at all. Leave a comment and tell me what's wrong or right with it. I'd really appreciate it. Maybe I'd even send you a cookie! =D
--Tsunami wonders how many people read this thing
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