aeloc

ONLINE

2008-08-30T20:37:00.003-04:00

did you ever go to see someone you met online?

umm, so i'm going to. =/

that will be my last use of any time of emoticon on this blog, EVER, don't worry.

but that is the face i have on

today i blew over five hundred dollars on books. first up: barbara leaming's bio of marilyn monroe. i already read THE IMMORTALS, so i want to learn more about her. i feel like i'm just like her, but then, i feel like that about all the main characters of any good book i read. dominique francon, marilyn monroe, lestat, sam(THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER) really a great book.

TOOTSIE

2008-08-17T21:46:00.004-04:00

i know it, i know.

this blog has been a little aimless. the truth is i can't really care. i started this without a real goal. i thought it'd be nice to be noticed, buti didn't bank on that happening. i don't have great internet connection, so posting photos is just bothersome, fashionblog out.
i no longer use my computer to write, not a literature blog.
i haven't been improving my portfolio much at all which is pretty embarassing as an artist, so i haven't even got pictures of my work. i suppose i could photo all of my little sketches, which i quite like, but those are premature and gruesome.

i don't know what i'm doing anymore- i was meant to move to new york with jaiek, but that's not exactly happening. i'm still going though.. i'll see what the big bad city has for me. match me.

that's why jaiek and i were together. because we both needed it rough. decadent. violent.

incidentally today is my little sister madelyn's first birthday. i call her tootsie.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

2008-08-17T21:35:00.002-04:00

to-morrow is moving day. it'll be good to get away. I'll be in Scarsdale, about 25 miles from the city. I'm desperate for a new bicycle- mine is not a road bike. It'll work for the itme being but goshh I've got such bike envy. I almost left a note on someone's old FREESPIRIT bike with my email asking how much they'd sell it for. i restrained myself.

There are certain things that you cannot afford to be cheap about. And they are coats, yogurt, and your bicycle. really, anyone who has ridden on a mountain bike on a road and also a road bike will know that the difference is friggen monumental. i've got a five hundred dollar budget though..... I may have to wait.

YOU'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO IT

2008-08-15T02:46:00.004-04:00

so do it now

my boyfriend of three years has just passed away. he had a heart attack while swimming.

alittle to late we were informed of some cardiac peculiarities.

4 YEARS, summarized

2008-07-17T19:01:00.003-04:00

BROWS STITCHED NECKS STIFF PENCILS SCRIBBLE TEACHER'S DRIVEL EXCEPT ONE CALLED DUNCE EYES CLOSED PENCIL POSED HEAD NODDING DREAM TRODDING ONE MORE CALLED WHORE LOW SHIRT MR. PERVERT LEGS OPEN TEACHER'S TOKEN HIGHSCHOOL EXCESS DROOL.

a poem by me.

LEVITATING LADY

2008-07-09T22:39:00.003-04:00

not quite, but i do fly. in flight simulators.

the programme is two weeks in.

I've read the book THE FOUNTAINHEAD.

trite, but I am Dominique.

I have aquiz tomorrow and haven't studied. i don't need to. I'm so fucking good at this someone should shoot me for it.

i'm quite tan, in comparison to my natural skin tone. i think i need a hair cut:

BACK

2008-06-23T15:18:00.002-04:00

phew. reason for abandonment?

bought myself a tangible journal about a month or so ago... leather, classic. anyhow, it's 1/3 filled up and i hope whoever reads it thinks i'm crazy but amazing.

i'm leaving for the sunny state(i hope that's FL, not CA) in five days hopefully never to return to MI. Unfortunately the luggage set I got from ebay isn't here yet! so packing is conceptual at this point.

looking for modeling jobns here and there, coacd is a huge help. sadly, the best job out there starts a week before i'm finished FL. shitt.

LISTS

2008-05-17T17:19:00.002-04:00

Comic: Calvin and Hobbes
Constellation: the little dipper
Band: bob dylan (is a band)
Mineral: salt
90s TV show: ren and stimpy
Season: summer
Artist: Sarah Frank
Font: arial
Word: kama
Atari game: ...
Eye shadow: whatever from avon, usually purple coloured
Mythical creature: sphynx
Coffeehouse: beaners
Obscure 80s song: Mad World
Boy TV character: Luke from Gilmore Girls
Performance artist: The Lord of the Dance
Tree: apple
Photographer: Leah Vander Hill
Furniture material: dark wood
Way to spend a free hour: with a book or friend
Comedian: snl best of will ferrel is pretty good, i have to admit
Quote: “Your name is momentary.”
NYC architecture: i'll tell you when i go and see it for myself
Vacay spot: shall be paris
Time of day: dawn
Pen: the stolen kind
Bagel: with fruit bits and cream cheese
Origami shape: cliche, but the crane
Museum: the one in Ashley N.C
Fish: i hate the look of all fish. but i love to eat them all.
Young-adult novelist: Libba Bray
Clothing designer: Jojovich-Hawk

Ice cream: anything like moosetrachs
Outfit: 90's dress, high heels, bare white legs.
Sticker type: scratch/n/sniffs
Magazine ad: all the discovery channel ones
Game: the Gilmore Girls three men one
Flower scent: juniper
Crumbs cupcake: mango chili
Movie scene: any scene from upcoming movie twilight, i'll bet!

iLIMERICK

2008-05-13T14:28:00.001-04:00

My wardrobe hangs out in my car backseat. All my shoes are on the floor instead of on my feet. I've got a warning to all of the shy and modest. Don't look through the windows unless you would see me get dressed.

iPOEM

2008-05-13T14:18:00.001-04:00

all the girls in skinny jeans and '90's Kate Moss dresses
are smoking and choking with big bows in their tresses.
no wonder nowadays every pretty girl distresses;
brown is the new black and more is what less is
who can blame 'fashion victims' for their outfit messes:
"Uggs are out, but I wear them when I'm alone," one confesses.

LIFE, DEATH, THOUGHTS

2008-05-06T21:14:00.000-04:00

Life the Anomaly, Death the Promise. Just Thoughts and Things I Memorized. Close The Door.

Where did this come from? Is there proof?
How did everything occur? From what did life stem?

Maybe there was a great creator, or maybe it was a cosmological fluke. The question as to the origin of the universe and all within it has been around since the beginning of recorded history, and probably then some. Debates occur in your average classroom and in the Supreme Court, and yet… and yet this question, while it has been present in my mind, has never been a bother.

Consider this a tip of the hat to Mrs. Johnson and her column which describes the three consistancies of life. The one I mean to talk about is the end of it, or, depending on how you look at it, the beginning.

It isn’t my concern, atleast for this (final) column, as to why we die and what may or may not happen following the promised event, but the process.

For those in the audience (persons reading or listening) who don’t already know, The summer precluding my junior year in highschool I held a seven week internship at the morgue. Mohnke’s funeral home, to be exact. Don’t get excited, I didn’t perform autopsies or embalmations or anything fancy, but I did get to hang around and watch. As weird as it sounds, I’m afraid working there was a bad idea, because I’m afraid that for the rest of my life I might not be able to observe and partake in anything as thought-provoking.

I remember my first corpse. Mind you, I’d seen dead people before, at funerals and in pictures, of course, but this was different.

I walked into the silver room with my hair in a net and hands in latex gloves that day and inspected from the corner for a little while before it was rolled in. The first thing I noticed was that the wheels of the cart needed greasing badly, and then the tarp. When it was pealed down it wasn’t too terrible, just a naked old lady. Letting my gaze linger I began to notice subtler details; the alabaster white surface of the skin, fragile as tissue paper; the mouth dumbly open, the tongue in the back of the throat; the eyes milky and unseeing, the lids unshut. This elderly woman died alone in her home, and was found by the family almost 24 hours after she became deceased. This information was told to me by my boss in explanation, for when the body was turned over the landscape was shockingly different. The body was maneuvered easily due to the rigor mortis, so there were no flopping limbs to deal with. When it was laid belly-down I could see that the blood had pooled to her underside; gravity had caused this disturbing bruise.

Mr. Mohnke went through the usual routines, all the while talking to me about the changes a body undergoes after dying. “A number of changes take place in the body during the period after death. The body becomes stiff after about three hours because of rigor mortis, before relaxing again after something like thirty hours. The blood drains from capillaries in the skin of the upper surface, and collects in blood vessels in the lower surface. Idle fluids may leak from natural body openings, particularly if decomposition is allowed to occur.”

Usually bandages are applied to the mouth and appendages to keep them in a certain position, and absorbent material is packed around the body openings. I’m sure most people exposed to this column will have uncommonly profound knowledge of the movements of bodily fluids and would-be excrement, so I need not go into reasoning for this.

I learned the stages of decomposition during the preparation of my second corpse. The first stage is autolysis (self digestion.) In short, cells break down the body into elements the cells can eat (does that make sense?) This generates a liquid that gets between the layers of skin and causes the skin to peel off. (I’m sure again, that it can be left to your imagination what would happen if a body was not taken care of, and allowed to decompose if flies are present and start to lay eggs in the openings of the body (eyes, belly button, open wounds, other orifices, etc.))

When we are alive bacteria makes gas from the food we eat. Once we die, however, bacteria instead feeds off the tissue in the body. Gas collects in the corpse because the small intestine collapses very early on. The ballooning first is seen in the abdomen, but in some cases I have seen it in the mouth and genital region, where the most bacteria flock. The tongue will swells and sticks out if decomposition continues without interruption after fourteen days or so. This is why you take your dead to a morgue. Otherwise the inflation will keep happening until something gives way; most of the time the intestines, but on occasion it can be the actual torso, usually involving a ripping noise, I was told.

The third and logest part of decomposition is putrefaction, which begins during the swell stage, but the results aren’t evident until later than the bloat phase is complete. Putrefaction is when the body breaks down, and tissues and bacteria liquefy. The digestive organs, the brain, and lungs disintegrate first because that’s where the most bacteria are. For about three weeks the organs inside are still identifiable, but after that everything inside turns into the consistency and color of chicken soup. The muscles can be eaten by bacteria and in some circumstances the skin is bacteria too, or it just dries out and hardens. Eventually, you guessed it, there’s just the skeleton.

I got way ahead of myself there, sorry. The only hands on, bona fide experience I got was applying make-up (yeah, I am the most qualified beautician in the school.) Prep before the actual application of the make-up is tedious but premeditated and easy to go through once you’ve got the system down. Since I’m Jewish, and I found Jewish Burial Customs much more interesting and romantic, I choose to explain the begininnings of that.

The body is first uncovered and then washed carefully. As all blood must be buried along with the deceased, any open bleeding is stopped. The body is next thoroughly cleaned of dirt, body fluids and solids, and anything else that may be on the skin. The body is purified with water by immersion in a mikvah or by pouring it in a stream, according to custom. The body is then (usually) dried and dressed in traditional burial clothing called tachrichim. Once the body is dressed, the coffin is sealed. Unlike other religions, in Judaism there is no viewing of the body and no "open casket" at the funeral, though the immediate relatives are allowed a visitation prior to the coffin being sealed. Interestingly in Israel caskets are not used at all, excluding military funerals. Ordinarily the body is carried to the grave wrapped in a tallit.

Though in Big Rapids there aren’t too many Jews so most every ‘case’ I ‘dealt’ with went through another process. Before a body can be embalmed the face is cleaned, very cautiously, so as not to tear the skin, and then shaved. The eye sockets are filled with cotton, so the lids don’t look hollow and frighten children, or anyone when I think about it, at open casket funerals and the like. Also aiding are eye caps, to keep them shut. The jaw is sutured to keep it from gaping. Embalming in the simplest sense is the utilization of the circulatory system to pump fluids into the cells to postpone the previously described decomposition process: Mr. Mohnke would use one of the common carotid arteries to distribute the fluids into the body, rehydrating the tissues to keep the face from appearing so gaunt, and adding a little colour to the skin.

I think Jews have got the right idea though. I don’t want to offend anyone (well, maybe subconsciously, I do) by saying that, but I do believe it. Putting the dead in boxes and burying them six feet under disallows them to keep rollin’ in the circle of life, if you know what I mean. I think our cases are meant to be reabsorbed when we’re shuffled. Anyhow, there are other ways of dealing with the bodies, but, not surprisingly, I doubt I could have achieved the prescribed word count if I had instead talked about cremation instead. Now that I’ve written all of this I feel bad but I’m wanting to erase it all, because I keep thinking about how much I’ve left out. To be honest, I don’t think any amount of words could describe the feeling of being in a room with a used and abandoned shell. I don’t know why I tried.

A RANT

2008-04-25T13:59:00.004-04:00

(My teacher is a world-class asshole, but I think I handled this appropriately.)

Mr. Banks,

This is Aja Aeloc writing in regards to the grade received for my Persuasive Speech. As you know, I disagree with you on this matter. If you will continue to read, I think you will find I have my reasons for this and I hope I may convince you that although my speech was probably “asking for it,” (this was taken into consideration during the writing of the outline and preparation) it was delivered in accordance with the goals and requirements and was deserving of a grade representing its caliber.
The rubric you provided to the class listed six requirements, all of which I fulfilled. I met each noted requirement including time window, submission of topical outline and detailed bibliography, minimum sources (plus one), no infiltration of my own opinions on the issue, proper and thorough research, element of genuineness (meaning I did not read my speech word for word from a paper), and finally spoke adamantly.

The criticisms you wrote on my grade sheet were:
o Look at us more.
o You will first have to change the Bill of Rights.
o How does this stop global warming?
o You need more sources.
o You should do a real topic.

Forgive me, but I am confused because previously the first criticism has only resulted in the deduction of one point on other speeches I have given. The second criticism, if you ask anyone, is irrelevant and should not affect the final outcome of my grade. Correct me if I am wrong, but the solution that I proposed to the problems addressed was not required to be realistic and had no restrictions regarding how drastic it was allowed to be.
I was also confused by the third comment, or rater, query, “How does this stop global warming?” This gives me the impression that you did not listen during my speech at all, as this was answered more than once in more than one way to ensure that any attentive audience member would be left with no question as to the specific effects of each individual aspect of the solution proposed. If this were the case, which I hope it was not, you should not have graded my speech at all, which would make this all the more convoluted, and I certainly do not wish to repeat my speech for your clarification.
I am further baffled by the following comment. The claim that not enough sources were provided is a completely false, as the rubric states that only three are needed. I shall give you the benefit of the doubt, the bibliography I provided obviously proved my acquisition of not three, but four legitimate sources.
The final comment sort of shocked me. I’m afraid that at this point the use of the word confusion would be terribly redundant, and I would not like to present myself as being sub-intelligent in any way. But honestly, I do not think I should have to rebut this claim. To me, this assertion is an outstanding demonstration of ignorance and pretention, both of which are detestable qualities to be found in a teacher. For this reason, I have supplemented the attached sheets in hopes of showing you that my solutions (for I think that is what you meant, because asserting that global warming and prison overpopulations are not REAL would be downright stupid) are surprisingly not unheard of. The proper term for the usage of a human corpse as fertilizer is actually promession, and natural burials are actually quite common in Europe. I hope you will at least review these.
Believe it or not, I am quite sorry to have been so frank, I realize that some of the thinks I said were harsh, but I feel greatly outraged that you could feel it proper to grade me based on your bias.

Concerned,

Aja Aeloc

TODAY WILL BE DARK

2008-04-20T09:22:00.001-04:00

it's seventy and i shall wear a leotard and read a book with legs covered in baby oil and soon i wont be mistaken for an albino.

EIGHT OF SIX

2008-04-17T13:29:00.000-04:00

8 Things I am Passionate About

1. Pencils
2. Mime
3. Numbers
4. Details
5. Hand script
6. Singing
7. Reading
8. Any combination of the previous

8 Things I Want To Do Before I Die

1. Sky dive
2. Act in a film
3. Be asked to dance
4. Have long hair again
5. Give someone their first kiss
6. Mix my own oil paint
7. Tend my own garden
8. Read all Herman Hesse

8 Things I Say Often

1. Dag Nabbit
2. Sorry
3. Shit, son
4. Mamma Jamma
5. Wingapo
6. It’s so good it’ll make you cry for your Momma.
7. like
8. Just pretend this isn’t happening

8 Books I Have Read Lately

1. Siddhartha
2. The Sweet Far Thing
3. Atlas Shrugged
4. Gone With the Wind
5. Girl With a Pearl Earring
6. The Deathly Hallows
7. The Picture of Dorian Grey
8. All Quiet on the Western Front

8 Songs I Could Listen To Over and Over

1. Killing Me Softly- Roberta Flack
2. Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door- Bob Dylan
3. What is Love- ??
4. Blackbird- The Beatles
5. Foolish Games- Jewel
6. Moon River- Audrey Hepburn or Frank Sinatra
7. Clocks- Coldplay
8. Take On Me- A’Ha

8 Things That Attract Me to a Person

(usually this is the order in which they are noticed, not necessarily order of importance, with the exception of the last, which is undoubtedly the best, but, unfortunately, is not always fully redeeming, like in cases of extreme ugliness or obesity.)
1. immediately- clothes
2. then- body in clothes
3. next- facial structure
4. then- skin quality
5. next- eyes
6. then- smile
7. then- voice
8. next- ideas

PROM

2008-03-31T09:12:00.002-04:00

with prom coming up, and all that jazz, you can guess what's been on my mind lately. look at these dresses.

Windows Live Hotmail is giving away Zunes. Enter for your chance to win.

HAIR HUNTER

2008-03-26T13:39:00.001-04:00

facehunter, thankyou. i've been looking for examples of this hairstyle for along while. as prom is comign up and my hair is short , finding an example of a decent, interesting hairstyle for a stylist has been fruitless, until you!

WHY I AM STUMPED

2008-03-20T14:33:00.000-04:00

To this day my sense of distance in relation to the time it takes to travel aforementioned distance is irrevocably damaged.
Explaining this is going to be difficult.
From kindergarten to 8th grade I lived in a house past a cemetery about five miles out of town. An unbiased person could brainlessly calculate the approximate time it would take for a car consistently following speed limits/suggestions (the way out to that house is cuuuurvy) to drive into the city limits of Big Rapids. I, however, was brainwashed.
You see, the dominant mode of transportation from home to school for me was the yellow bus. In a normal situation it takes about ten minutes to drive into town. Unfortunately, I am unable to comprehend this law of basic physics because I grew up thinking it always took an hour or more to travel the ten or so miles to the imposing bricks of Brookside.
Imagine how badly this has influenced me! All the standardized testing math sections are just killer. This type of problem, for example, seemed to be exceptionally apparent throughout the years:
A car driving about 48 miles per an hour traveling due North left and began traveling at 11:42a.m. What time will it be when the car will have driven 136 miles?
Well, of course, I couldn’t tell you the right answer! The only options given were somewhere between two and four hours! In all of my experience, there was no way this could be achieved! It would take at least 21 hours for the bus to travel this distance! Needless to say, my score in the math section of the ACT was… lower than I would have liked.
More aspects affecting the quality of my higher education are altered by the presence of my disability to this very day… let me explain. After riding a nauseating bus nearly everyday for eleven years and subsequently being mentally blighted, the last two years have been spent forcing myself to face the facts and vowing not to let my little hindrance stop me from leading a normal, healthy life.
Unfortunately, becoming a normal person is a long difficult process, and sometimes I mess up. There, I admit it. Every time I arrive to school tardy, now you know why. It’s because I’ve been overcorrecting myself. I realize that in the real world, it shouldn’t take an hour to drive to school. In typical conditions it should only take about ten minutes. However, sometimes mornings play out like this: I wake up, shower, eat, and gather my keys, get ready to start the car, and glimpse the clock, which is signaling to me that I have a good forty-five minutes before I need to physically be in the classroom. So, I take it easy, slip off my shoes, and lie on the couch, counting the minutes for a while, but, as I said, I am human, and sometimes I lose track of the minutes. Still, usually the next time I open my eyes all agitated and worried about being late, I would see that I have fifteen minutes still. This, to a high schooler, is a considerable amount of time that CANNOT be wasted. I must milk every precious free second and nap another five minutes. As you have probably guessed, by the time I deem it is really time to go, I’m either going to drive, let me borrow a phrase from my mother, like a bat out of hell- or I’m not going to risk getting pulled over and just be late.
It is my opinion that I should not be punished for this, after all, it is the school system’s fault for misleading me so.
It is also my firm belief that making children ride buses to school is a heinous injustice to all of society! Not only are nine out of ten bus-riding children mentally irreparably impaired, 100% of them are subjected to the lifelong unpleasantry of remembrance of bus-related experiences. If someone is trying to work and keeps being distracted by someone talking down the hall because their voice is scarily similar to that of person’s creepy old bus driver who used to yell and always stop the bus ten feet or so past the stop, especially in the rain or cold, how are they going to do a good job for their employer? This person is undoubtedly too disheveled to concentrate on their assignment, and will most likely end up writing their monthly report or whatever in incomprehensible gibberish or personal Esperanto. Next thing you know, they’ve been fired, and it’s just another helpless victim draining our economy collecting unemployment dollars.
It’s a vicious circle people! If you don’t have a car to drive your kids to school, I suggest you home school them.
I just hope for everyone’s sake that I’m not going to be one of those poor people. I think I am reasonably adjusted to reality, and besides, I’m going to be a flight attendant, so my perception of ground travel is really unimportant anyway. I only hope I’ll be able to cope if I move to some metro and end up taking cabs to the airport.

STAY TUNED

2008-03-14T13:57:00.001-04:00

It's been forever, I know. A new post is coming next week though!

I WANT OUT

2008-02-13T10:27:00.002-05:00

A note first, just so you know, Jenny is the president of my class.

I'm tired, and I want out. I'm ready to be gone from here.
It's the song of the senior, and as predictable as it is bound to sound coming from a soon-to-graduate, it's true. I don't say it necessarily in the "I want to get to college as far away from home as possible" way, however. While that statement would be partially true, there are some parts of it that are a little too misleading for me to let slide. Like the college bit. There, I said it; I'm not going to college.
That is not the point.
It hasn't taken me so long to figure out that a city catering to 20,000; 10,000 sans Ferris chumps; people is not the place for me. I've lived in this predominantly white, Christian, red-necked place, that is, Big Rapids (extending to Michigan, extending to the United States) for the whole of my long life - 17 years, staggering, I know. I feel inclined to say that while to some, having lived only 17 years gives me 'no reason' to feel so deprived, I'd like to argue that when people are dying before the age of 30, it's damn stupid to wait to start 'living' until college. In fact, I might go as far to call it abusive of a parent not to travel and culture their child(ren) if they have the means to do so. Unfortunately, my parents, while having the means, saw it as decadent to spend so much money on vacations to far off lands full of wonder to persons of all ages, and so chose to spend most of the income on far more essential things, such as cigarettes- later cigarette rolling contraptions and bags of tobacco, alcoholic beverages, directionless appointments with under-qualified shrinks, and hair-dye kits to name a few. All the while I rot in a state of semi-despair, dissecting every glossy page of my magazines, and savoring time away at the homes of my friends'.
It would be wrong of me to blame my misfortune entirely on my parents', however. After all, the corrupt are born of a corrupt society. How can I rightly expect anything different from them when they were raised in this country?
If you haven't figured it out yet, this is a rant. Maybe not one of epic proportions, and maybe not new, but here nonetheless. I feel like lately the shortcomings of the homestead have become devastatingly apparent. I'm sure everyone is aware that the economy is going to the shitter here in Michigan, especially in the real-estate department. Also the fact that the newly revealed most-murderous city in the whole damned nation is a couple hours down the road from little ol' Big Rapids, is notwithstanding. Finally, Michigan has something to contribute! Speaking of individual states, did you know that California is the better half of the U.S.'s economy? Anyway… let me share with you some of the statistics in favor of people like me, who just want to leave, and want do it as soon as possible, because we internally cringe every time we are reminded where our citizenship lies.
America is the stingiest, most polluting, fattest, dumbest, criminal, unthinking 'developed' country you could imagine. Since I already mentioned the murdering lot of Detroit, I'll continue by expanding on the criminal aspect. The level of violent crime that occurs in the United States as compared with other industrialized countries, such as Britain, is exceptionally high. There are more reported murders in the aforementioned D-Town, with a population of about 1.5 million, than in the whole of the United Kingdom, which has a population of a little more than… 58 million. The murder rate in the U.S. as a whole from 1990 was more than double that of Ireland, which is torn by civil war. It was four times that of Italy, nine times England's and 11 times Japan. Furthermore, only 7% of all rapes are reported. Still, by comparison, the UN published statistics on Gender Violence stating that the reporting rate for robbery is 53%, burglary 52%, and assault 46% from the United States. The rape rate in the United States was eight times higher than France's, 15 times higher than England's, 23 times higher than Italy's, and 26 times higher than Japan's.
On a less depressing note, still not comforting, the U.S. also snags the top spot as stingiest of all the developed countries. GDP (Gross Domestic Product) wise, national wealth, that is devoted to foreign aid, the Land of the Free ranks twenty-second of the 22 most developed nations. It can be said that the U.S. is the biggest giver, but proportionately, the U.S. manages to give only .1% of GDP, while the rest of the United Nations has established the target of .7% GDP. In addition to holding back so much, what does go out only goes out to a select few. Fifty percent of the aid budget is spent on middle-income countries in the Middle East, and some sources report that around 80% of all the aid itself actually goes to American companies in areas receiving aid.
The recipient of the largest single share of the U.S.'s foreign aid is Israel, who is supported by the U.S. under any circumstances, with the U.S. vetoing any and all movements against Israel's illegal occupations. This, in turn, does not exactly heighten the U.S.'s importance and effectiveness in the UN Security Council. The U.S. and Israel’s simultaneous dismissal of the World Conference Against Racism and the U.S.'s lack of movements to ratify half of the six core Human Rights treaties keeps confirming my qualms- run, and don’t look back!
I find it interesting still that of all the interventions the U.S. has staged in foreign places under the guise of trying to improve the situation- think Afghanistan, Iraq, Vietnam, Cuba, Bosnia, Nicaragua, etc.- all the intended benefactors have ended up hating us in the end. Perplexing that the thing that all of them have in common is that they were virtually created by the 'Interventions' in the first place. Maybe the government will soon learn that the more weapons you put out there and the more factions you turn into monsters, the worse the fighting becomes and the less democratic is the resulting instated government. As can be guessed, my prediction concerning the outcome of the little project in Iraq or Iran or Pakistan or wherever they've sent troops last isn't what you'd call optimistic.
In other complaints, there is the lack of a national health service, and, horror!, rising gas prices and the decreased face-value of the previously thought almighty dollar. This is bad? It seems like here, everyone is terrified of having to pay more for energy and gasoline. It reminds me of when my mother still bought cigarettes from the gas station. Every time the prices were upped, she'd freak out and start bitching about how it's unfair and blah, blah, blah, apparently her addiction should be cheap! That's what it is, really, isn't it, an addiction? Silly me, I had thought that prices rising here were moving towards a, gasp, sustainable price for everyone! In addition, the U.S. refuses to support pollution treaties to reduce emissions from cars or consumption of petrol. Statistics from 1990 assert that 36.1% of worldwide greenhouse emissions can be accounted for by the U.S., and it keeps going up. Four percent of the world's population resides in the U.S. and 25%-ish of all the carbon dioxide emissions come from them. Comparatively, Britain and India both emit only about 3%, the latter of which contains about 15 times as many people. I'm thinking some of this is due to Etats-Unis stubborn cling to driving, rather than bicycling or walking- a seemingly forgotten mode of transportation, considering the obesity epidemic. Oh, yeah! 61% of people in the U.S. were overweight and 26% obese in 1999. I'm almost afraid to know what the numbers are now.
Anyway, back to the gluttonous consumption of fuel- I've got a notion that Mr. Dubya Bush can be blamed in this case. The election, if my memory serves me, was pretty straightforward. Oil, gas, coal, and nuclear companies donated upwards of $50 million in his election, just to get him in office. After the election, in which he did not receive the popular vote; another fault, that being the Electoral College; Bush denounced the Kyoto Protocol for reducing carbon-dioxide emissions. I wonder if, with these kinds of things going on, the government can still be considered democratic at all. The interests of the people seem to be pretty nonexistent, while from a corporal standpoint, it's in the bank.
Speaking of my favorite president, I'd like to share some potential cliché quotes, for good measure. Was there ever a criticism of the U.S. that didn't include at least one? In light of the previous paragraphs, I find these most enlightening: "This foreign policy stuff is a little frustrating," deepest condolences, Mr. President. Also, “our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." Freudian slip, anyone? And, no offense to those of you in here who think you might be one of the sharper knives, but you'll never match Mr. Bush for intelligence. "The illiteracy level of our children are appalling." Well said. I for one, am quite envious of his effortless mastering of the language. Not to be outdone, Mr. Bush has apparently, "coined new words, like, misunderstanding and Hispanically." Well, Hispanically speaking, Mr. Bush, who, bless his soul, forgot that they speak Portuguese in Brazil, asked the President Fernando Cardoso, "Do you have blacks, too?" Good question. It seems that Mr. Dubya is the superior polyglot of our times, but, rather disappointingly, often refuses to enlighten the rest of us, and does not answer questions "Neither in French nor in English nor in Mexican." Well, maybe another time.
All that said, when Jenny comes a`knockin’ trying to find people to attend our high school reunions, you’d better not spill the beans.

SAVAGE GARDEN

2008-01-23T09:51:00.000-05:00

maybe unfortunately, not about the band, though I love it dearly. inspired in part by the writing of Anne Rice, moreso by a disturbing dream I had.

***

It is the earliest of morning. I don’t know where I am, I think maybe in a vacuum. This is disconcerting to me, as I have never been exactly nowhere. To ease my displeasure I imagine surroundings for myself. I must have just woken into The Dream, normally when I arrive I am at least somewhere. I imagine myself suspended in midair many miles above the earth, dangling on the particles of nitrogen and oxygen beyond the weather. I am so light I cannot feel my body now.

After this I slip from consciousness into unconscious thought, and without realizing it, I have begun to descend towards the surface of the earth. Unaware of this, I continue to concentrate on an epiphany. The nature of an epiphany is that it is sudden and uncalculated prior to its birth, however, within the isolation of my hippocampus this nature can be stretched, manipulated, or destroyed. And as I ponder this somewhere it registers with me that the earth is no more than some celestial giant’s spit wad. It doesn’t necessarily spin in any orbit, and it only exists because it is simply imagined to do so.

My body is free of my mind, and has no navigator. It floats down, and is above Egypt. My eyes know this because the earth has transformed, it has become a life-size political map of a globe. Apparently, this spit is multicoloured. My body is absorbed into the multifaceted purple grains of sand that compose the desert.

My thoughts plunge back to my location, and just as this happens I experience the sensation of having put on a skintight jumpsuit made of a very thick rubber. I find it excruciating to move, and so, as though frozen, I am sort of sucked through the sands of time. I suppose what I feel is comparable to what a snake would feel if he was forced to shed his perfectly fine and bonded scales from his muscles beneath. Such is the sensation. In the midst of this, there is a sound like the pop heard when an airtight vacuum is unsealed. If feel completely new. I direct my focus to my limbs to find that they have arranged themselves in a bazaar fashion. My right leg is bent at my hip underneath my back. I must look strange should someone happen by, but also peculiarly elegant. I don’t recall being this flexible in the Waking Life. I am surprised that when I try to move it, I don’t feel pain. I don’t want to open my eyes until I am standing. I am incredibly aware of the severe silence. In the Waking Life there is the unwavering noise of machinery, the incessant buzzing of information being passed through wires and cables. The quite is pulsating, weirdly enough, hushing the intrusion of my thundering heart.
When my eyes did not open of their own accord, I lifted my hand to my forehead, and felt for the little cord underneath my skin between my brows, and yanked it up and outward from my face.

I missed a breath.

It occured to me that I had been catapulted through the crust of the earth to land in an uncharted land of beauty. I felt as though here, I could make a thousand fatal errors. I had discovered a wild and indifferent paradise without signposts.

A cartographer’s dream.

I decided immediately upon this revelation to roam the region. I found the perfection of my surroundings dizzying. The sprawling grandeur in steps to come looked positively nauseating. I contented myself to simply observe the terrain.

This beauty, I ascertained, contained alien dangers and lawlessness as had dwelled in the earth of my Waking Life, eons before man had one single coherent thought in his head. When I had collected some inertia to travel and presumed to take a step forward, instead of lifting my other foot in sequence I was sliding across a plane unseen to me. It was as if I was gliding on invisible ice, and when I threw my hands out in near desperation and fear of hurtling into the splendid foliage, and thereby possibly obliterating it, my arms extended behind me and out of my vision without consulting me.

“Curse you, damn arms!”

Perhaps in response to my hypothetical ‘slap on the wrist’ and aggression, my arms, having had enough of me, dislocated themselves in protest. This only elicited further rage from the rest of me, and my lips did not hesitate to guarantee that the consequences of my arms’ actions would not be pleasant. I did not take the time to consider whether or not I would feel any of the pain I was promising to inflict on them. In my anger, I failed to notice that I had stopped moving through the Savage Garden. I fumed as I watched the appendages that divorced my soar into the violet sky, expanding like balloons until, finally, they had become the size of blimps.

I became aware of the fact that my fear wasn’t stemming from the growing chance that these arms of mine would explode in a very Hindenburg-esque fashion (truly, I could still feel my arms and the effects this absurd bloating incurred.) My trepidation was due to the increasingly apparent fact that I had absolutely no control over my body.

After the couple zeppelins faded into the distance, I teetered on the brink of hysteria. Miraculously, the jungle came to my rescue; for what would become of me if I had no arms and no time to adapt to my newly self-mutilated body? Seeds from the towering green trees around me showered on me, planting in my scalp. Then I felt them sprout, and saw my tresses, emerald as the leaves, grow longer and longer, wrap around my chest and then elongated more. I watched, stunned, as my jade locks weaved into braids, and then wound around the plaits on either side of my torso to replace my arms as creepy extremities.

Forgot was the previous foreboding of the forest, the melancholy of the arboretum. In hugged myself in my rapture. My new arms were reluctant to release me. I hardly minded.

Victoriously, the vines consumed me, impervious to my damning. I was rooted in the very soil I had once gazed at in awe. The scintillating grains of sand were now my suppressors. I was now part of the bravura of the landscape.

For the first days of my captivity I entertained thoughts of escaping. After that did not happen, I stared at the other trees in horror. And after years of imprisonment, I have watched as others like me were ravaged by the Savage Garden.

KAMA

2008-01-18T10:06:00.000-05:00

another class assignment, 4,000ish words. I warn you.

KAMA

the biggest skank ever. also described as ‘easy’. Likely to have sipphilus.
i.e. That girl kama has slep with every guy in Georgia.
Tags: slut skank whore tramp hoe.
(www.urbandictionary.com).

I once read a book about linguistics that claimed “Words do not have any ‘real’ meaning as opposed to other, ‘false’ meanings. Any meaning people give to a word is automatically its ‘real’ meaning under those circumstances,” (Hall, Robert A.) Personally, I put full stock in this idea. So I shall embrace this particular definition of the word. However, I have chosen to dedicate myself to a more widely accepted and utilized province of the lexeme. Just as I also chose to contribute to the website by- how should I say? - editing, its former definition

Kama sounds like Comma, and looks like Karma. More testing of my patience than the annoyance of having to repeat myself three times after being asked what my word is, and whereupon recognition of the word is finally reached, having to defend myself against unspoken low opinions regarding my propriety, was the frustration of overcoming a language barrier in finding certain pieces of the puzzle of writing this paper. Kama is Sanskrit, which to my uneducated eyes, looked at first something like Arabic, a language defined by as “n. An ancient Indic language of Hinduism and the Vedas and is the classical literary language of India [sanskrta- perfect, refined :sam=together + karoti=he makes, see,]” (Webster’s). The fact that the word kama is not exactly English lent to all sorts of complications- surprisingly, Shakespeare hasn’t been translated into Sanskrit! Luckily for me, all of the Vedas- loosely, the equivalent of the Bible to Christianity, but divided into four books and told in a manner similar to Greek mythology- in print had the Sanskrit text, the literal translation of each word, a sentence structured English translation, and an analysis with suggestions for interpretation to go with each and every single verse. I thought I might bypass the hazards of investigation, as it would no doubt require me to do an awful lot of page turning, with the use of a friendly web-sit,e Wikipedia. I realized quickly that going through all of the links (Kama, a Hindu god, the God of Love, son of Lakshmi; Kama, the Sanskrit and Pali word for “sensuality”; the kama River, a tributary of the Volga river, in Russia; Kama, Fukuoka, a city in Japan; Kama(weapon), sickle-like weapons, often wielded in both hands, that evolved from tools used ofr cutting weeds in Japan; Kama, name of straight bladed, double edged daggers in Turkey; Kama, Estonian food; Charles Wright, Wrestler who performed as Kama; Kama, iron pots used to heat water in Japanese tea ceremonies; Kama Tarkham, legendary leader of the Huns; and Panzertruppenschule Kama, a secret Soviet-German military research training facility) would be even less enjoyable, and more likely less reliable than old-fashioned book sifting. This made for extremely tedious research and many paper cuts, but much more knowledge gained about my religion-of-choice.

The search for the perfect definition yielded some interesting results, as can be seen if you reread the introduction. The better definitions were the following: Kama is, in the Rig-Veda (x.129), “the personification of that feeling which leads and propels to creation. He was the first movement that stirred in the One, after its manifestation from the purely abstract principle, to create. ‘Desire first arose in It, which was the primal germ of mind; and which sages, searching with their intellect, have discovered to be the bond which connects Entity with Non-Entity;’” and The Sanskrit Documents website pseudo-definition,

kAma m. wish, desire, longing(Pa1n2.3-3, 153); desire for, longing after,; love affection ,object of desire or of love or of pleasure(RV., VS., TS., AV. MBh., R.); pleasure, enjoyment; love, especially love or sensuality; Love or Desire personified(AV. Ix; xii; xix(RV. x.129.4); N. of the god of desire(AV. iii.25.1) represented as the son of Dharma and husband of Rati(MBh.1,2596), or as a son of Brahma, or sometimes of Samkalpa(BHm.i.6.10); cf. KamaDeva; N. of Agni(SV.ii.8.2/19.3, AV., TS.) of Vishnu, of Baladeva. L. a stake in gambling; a species of mango tree; N. of a metre consisiting of four lines of two long syllables each; a kind of bean; L. a particular form of temple cat; N. of several men; of a daughter of Prithusrava and wife of Ayutanayin(MBh.i, 3774); N. object of desire; L. semen virile; N. of a Tirtha(MBh.iii,5047); ind. out of affection or love for; according to desire, agreeably to the wishes of, out of love for(RV., AV., TS.); ind. for one’s own pleasure, of one’s free will, of one’s own accord, willingly, intentionally(R.); wishing, desiring(RV.ix.113.11); desirous if, desiring, having a desire or intention; frequently with; enjoyment of the body, desire for bodily pleasure; all such desires that come across in the life of us, the whole range of desires.

The worser definition was belonging to Foreign Words and Phrases with: kama (kahma) Sanskrit [love] noun love.

Undeniably better in the aid of understanding a word, I believe, is the consultation of a thesaurus. My favourite had this to say about kama as a lowercased, regular noun:
(seven principles of man. Theosophy) spirit, atman; mind, manas; soul, buddhi; life principle, vital force, prana; astral body, lingra sharira; physical or dense or gross body, sthula sharira; principle of desire, kama. (Roget’s).
When capitalized, kama became Kama;
(Hindu deities) Aditi, Agni, Aryaman, Asapurna, Avokolita or Avalokitesvara, Bhaga, Bhairava, Brahma, Brihaspati, Chitagupta, Daksha, Devaki, Dharma, Dyaus, Ganesa or Ganesha or Ganapati, Garuda, Himavat, Hanuman, Indra, Ka, Kala, Kama, Kamsa, Kartikkeyea, Marut, Mitra, Parjaynam, Pushan, Rahu, Rhibhusm Rudra, Savitar, Shiva, Sita, Soma, Surya, Vaja, Varuna, Varuni, vayu, Vibhu, Vishnu, Yama, Dharti Mai, Bhudevi; Devi, Bhairavi, chandi, Durga, Gauri, Jjaganmati, Kali, Parvati, Uma; Lakshmi, Sarasvati, Ushas,; Asvins.(Roget’s).
(gods) Love, Cupid, Amor, Eros, Kama; (goddesses) Venus, Aphrodite, Astarte, Freya.(Roget’s).
While Roget’s International Thesaurus provided related words and such, actual synonyms were only to be found from an online source. Kama-Deva, as the personification of the word, has a great many nicknames it seems. I have deigned to only write the meanings of these monikers, and they are: self-existent, beautiful, wanton, eager, water-born, inciting, diverting, love-god, satisfier, appeaser, enslaving, son of Krishna, desirous, happy, flower-armed, drunk(with love), destroyer, crocodile-banner, agitator, mind-produced, honey-lamp, bewildered, crackling(like a fire), dalliance passion-stalk, lover of women, gladdener, ender of peace, rememberer, fire, and handsome(Benjamin Walker.)

It became apparent after hours of research that the meaning of kama has some serious religious upbringing. Scriptures of Hinduism have shaped the way the word is used crucially. During my voyage to éclaircissement, use of Sruti (collective term for all of the Vedas. Also, Samhita.) has rendered the books to be quite like fantastic oars across the sea of interpretation… ackhem. First and foremost among the texts revered in Hinduism is the Rig-Veda (RV.) because it was the earliest and the others are more or less based upon it. There are four altogether, however, following the Rig-Veda chronologically is the Yajur-Veda (YV.), the Sama-Veda (SV.), and the Atharva-Veda (AV.) Next in importance are texts Brahmanas (BHm.) and the Upanishads (U.). These are often thought of as commentary to Sruti. This verse(AV.xix.52):
Sraddhalur mat-kathah srnvan
Su-bhadra loka-pavanih
Gayann anusmaran karma
Janma cabhinayan muhuh //
//Mad-arthe dharma-kamarthan
Acaran mad-apasrayah
Labhate niscalam bhaktim
May addhava sanatane
translates literally to:
a faithful person narrations about Me hearing
Which are all-auspicious the entire world
Purifying singing remembering constantly My activities
My birth also reliving through dramatical performances, etc. again and again//
//For My pleasure religious activities sense activities and commercial activities
Performing in Me having one’s shelter
One obtains without deviation devotional service
To Me O Uddhava dedicated to my eternal form.
With grammar:
My dear Uddhava, narrations of My pastimes and qualities are all-auspicious and purify the entire universe. A faithful person who constantly hears, glorifies and remembers such transcendental activities, who through dramatic performances relives My pastimes, beginning with My appearance, and who takes full shelter of Me, dedicating his religious, sensual, and occupational activities for My satisfaction, certainly obtains unflinching devotional service to Me, the eternal Personality of Godhead.
Not to fear though, each and every one of

the twenty something volumes of the Vedas in the rolling shelves of the deep, dark FLITE[the university library] basement also has a purport. About the use of kama in this context it says quite simply, “The word kama indicates that one should satisfy one’s desires with the transcendental paraphernalia of the Lord,” and it goes on to list what is considered acceptable, remedies, etc.
Another verse (AV.ix.2) says this about kama, which is in its driest form, sense activities.
Gaty-ukty-utsargopadanam
Ananda-sparsa-laksanam
Asvada-sruly-avadhranam
Aham sarvendriyendriyam
Which, slipping to the coherent translation, says:
I am the functions of the five working senses- the legs, speech, anus, hands and sex organs- as well as those of the five knowledge acquiring senses- touch, sight, taste, hearing, and smell. I am also the potency by which each of the senses experiences its particular sense object.
Because the Upanishads are inarguably the best commentary yet on the Vedas, I find these verses (U.I.iii.4-6) adequate supplements to the previous statement of The Lord’s Opulence:
The senses, they say, are the horses; the objects, the roads. The wise call the atman- united with the body, the senses, and the mind- the enjoyer.//
//The five organs of perception and the five organs of action are compared of horses because they draw the body hither and thither.//
//The natural tendency of a horse is to run wild; but it can be trained and brought under the charioteer’s control through reins firmly held with his hands. The senses, too, are naturally impetuous; but they can be trained and controlled by the discriminating buddhi through a one-pointed mind.
Taken together, the Atharva-Veda and Upanishad advocate kama as more than just ‘desire’ or ‘love,’ but the means by which desire is fulfilled and love is sought.

Among the texts of the Atharva-Veda is the avow that “just as in its cosmic activities and relations, kama is both a superior and inferior activity; indeed, it may be said to be divine in its higher aspects, just as it is physical in its lowest fields of action,”(www.experiencefestival.org.) Therefore, in one context kama may mean only sexual passion, but in another context it will mean all desire for the satisfaction of the self, including the desire for nirvana, and Godhead (Krsnadasa Kaviraja). When dealing with satisfaction, and the desire of it, there is a sort of antonym to kama, that is, prema. Prema entails desires to satisfying another, perhaps a lover or Brahma, while kama is the desire for the satisfaction of one’s own self. Often, I have found, kama is looked upon negatively, as being a selfish wish, and prema as being pure and more natural. In this way, kama and prema are distinctions between the higher and lower activities of all that kama encompasses.

“It is love rather than sexual lust or unbridled sexuality if, in addition to the need or want involved, there is also some impulse to give pleasure to the persons thus loved and not merely to use them for one’s own selfish pleasure.” – Mortimer Adler. The man of the matter was an illustrious Aristotelian philosopher from New York, New York. Well, maybe illustrious is a bit of a stretch as I’ve never heard of him, but I don’t think it really matters in this case. I couldn’t have hoped to find a better example of the aforementioned kama/prema idea. Here, Adler has, perhaps unknowingly, defined the two in layman’s terms. I’m not sure if I can discern any grandiloquence from that quote, as it is quite comprehensible as anything could ever be, which makes for a startlingly short paragraph compared to the others!

Oh, but that is not at all it! There is a god, as was mentioned somewhere above, that stands as the personification of kama, called Kama-Deva, or just Kama. The Rig-Veda says that upon the birth of the universe, desire was the first feeling born in it. The Atharva-Veda embellishes it as Kama-Deva, the creator. He is the son of Dharma and of Sraddha, or sometimes the son of Lakshmi, or of Brahma, or born of water. In any and all cases he is the wife of Rati(passion), who holds the mirror of wantonness. Kama-Deva is depicted riding a cuckoo bird or parrot while surrounded by celestial nymphs. He holds a bow of sugar cane with a string of honeybees and he shoots flower-arrows, usually five to signify the five senses, that will penetrate any heart, and fill the punctured organ with love and desire.

Déjà-vu? Probably. I contribute the dilapidation of the word to the proper noun’s uncanny resemblance to Cupid. It’s a shame, really. It felt like, for all I was worth, I could not find anything- don’t get me started on poetry!- that didn’t use kama in a steamy, romantic, often graphic manner. It is my idea that to only use kama in the romantic, graphic sense is superficial and a little stupid. Kama is a multi-faceted gem of a word! Surely, a writer would take the time to know that before using it, instead of throwing it in the mix because it fits the exotic/erotic tone of their…piece. Not to be outdone, however, I did flit across a rather, how should I say, open-minded poetry website to find a beautiful, shockingly non-amateur, poem that isn’t exactly a poem by one W.B. Yeats. The poem/duet acting scene in question is entitled Anashuya and Vijaya. Imagine my joy at having discovered something written by a credible author! The poem is the dialogue of a jealous young priestess, Anashuya, and her lover, Vijaya, who meet in a temple and discover their…compatibility. In short they converse and at one point Vijaya says:
The hour when Kama, full of sleepy laughter,
Rises, and showers abroad his fragrant arrows,
Peircing the twilight with their murmuring barbs.
Then a flock of ancient flamingos come by and steal Anashuya’s rice and she asks Vijaya to chase him away. He does, and when he leaves Anashuya appeals to Kama-Deva to send Vijaya in sleep dreams of her. Yeats has done his research, the fact that the temple is located very closely to running water is highly symbolic if one accepts that Kama is water-born. There is also the fact that the temple in the poem is a temple of Brahma, who is in other legends, the father of Kama.

Back to my loathing of persons who talk and employ words that which they do not know the meaning of! I suppose I cannot be all that hateful, I do realize that not everyone has done such a lengthy research of the word. Just because these people do not know the scope of delitescence kama includes does not mean their lexicon should be deprived of it. Who could blame them at any rate? If one is at all familiar with the word kama, I am willing to bet it is due to their quasi-exposure to the famous, or infamous if you rather, Kama Sutra. True, the bulk of the book is a detailed account of instructions on how to be an effective lover, but more importantly, the Kama Sutra is a priority. The original Kama Sutra was translated by Sir Richard Francis Burton, with the help of his collaborator, Aruthnot. It was published by The Kama Shastra Society in 1883, meant for private circulation, only it was leaked and published in Paris and Brussels soon after (Edward Rice). This can be seen as both fortunate and unfortunate, for without the pirating the world may never have been introduced to the work, but also unfortunate in that many versions of the Kama Sutra were then made, some omitting the foreword and other parts, only publishing pictures and descriptions, etc. The intended purpose of the Kama Sutra was not to be a book of more effectual techniques of sex, but to be a guide in living one’s life. There is firmness in the importance of fore and after play, kissing, marking, and all those little things that are just as important in lovemaking as the actual act of fornication. Interestingly, and perhaps a little rebelliously- feminists take note- the Kama Sutra stated that men and women were equal in love, quite revolutionary for the times. On the other hand, inarguably most imperative in the text is the constant credence. In Hinduism, there are four main “goals” of the soul. Collectively, they are called Purusharthas. The first is Dharma, meaning virtuous living; the second is Artha, which is material prosperity; the third is Kama, being aesthetic and erotic pleasure; the fourth is Moksha, or liberation of the cycle of rebirth (www.hinduwebsite.com). The Kama Sutra plainly states:
Kama is the enjoyment of appropriate objects by the five senses of hearing, feeling, seeing, tasting and smelling, assisted by the mind together with the soul. The ingredient in this is a peculiar contact between the organ of sense and its object, and the consciousness of pleasure which arises from that contact is called Kama. Kama is to be learnt from the Kama Sutra (aphorisms on love) and from the practice of citizens. When all three, Dharma, Artha and Kama, come together, the former is better than the one which follows it, i.e. Dharma is better than Artha, and Artha is better than Kama…
(It should be mentioned that it is my belief that the Kama Sutra is and inspiring spiritual text, because the truth about love and lovemaking is that it is, and has been, a worldwide spiritual phenomenon. Seen the Dead Poets Society, anyone? For this reason, I have chosen to use the Kama Sutra as one of my eight sources in place of The Oxford English Dictionary, as unfortunately, my word was not there.)

Which- are you still reading this? Good (you know you’re flirting with lunacy when you start addressing your readers directly in the paper.)- brings me to an article from The Independent; of Sunday, May 7th, 2006, by Ray Smith.
The Kama Sutra can be read, first, as an antidote to shame. It celebrates carnality, making it a part of life to be seen in the clear light of day… Sex is unadulterated pleasure when you enter the world of the Kama Sutra. The sexual organs are called ‘the organs of pleasure.’ As such they are not considered shameful, any more than the tongue is shameful because it brings the delights of eating.
I have to restrain myself now, because I want to just copy the whole article for the reader’s reading. I shant. I shall bestow another snippet of the article on the paper.
The whole history of the romantic novel is written in those few observations. If you smile at the notion that sexual desire can make someone grow sick and die, you may be correct medically, but millions have wept over the death of Catherine Earnshaw pining for Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights, not to mention a thousand nights languishing for love in medieval romances.
Well said, Mr. Ray. I can attest to the legitimacy of this statement, because I am founder of the Dirty Romance Novel Club (questions, ask later.) I cannot count how many smut books I’ve read that have shown this to be spot on. In other articles; there was one from the Chicago Sun-Times, which was in essence a review, and not a happy one, I might add. It was a criticism of a musical called “Kama Sutra: The Musical.” Sorry as I am, I’m afraid I will not be elaborating on it, as it isn’t necessary and I’ve got other things to write about…

Like kama. Oh, good idea! Well, I wasn’t lying earlier when I said Shakespeare hasn’t been translated into Sanskrit. Seeing as that is how it is in the world, isn’t it lucky that the two largest epic poems in the world are both written in this elusive language? To give one an idea of the immensity of these, consider this: The Bible contains 35,000, The Odyssey and The Iliad combined contain only a meager 27,803 verses, while the Mahabharata contains 90,000 verses, and the Ramayana has 25,000. I love Shakespeare- “Something is rotten in the State of Denmark!”- But the Mahabharata and Ramayana make the lot of his work look scanty. It can be said that the Ramayana is The Iliad of India, respectively. It is a story of the wanderings and adventures of a prince banished from his country. I has been alleged of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata collectively that they “present us with the most graphic and lifelike picture that exists of the civilization and culture, the political and social life, the religion and thought of ancient India.”(Ramayana Epilogue.) The Purusharthas are significantly developed in the two epics, therefore it can be inferred that kama is a huge overtone in both of them. The Ramayana boasts a character of the name Kama, who appears alongside the hero, Rama. There are two prominent instances of the Purusharthas being defined in the Ramayana. The first is when Bharat came to a forest to meet Rama. Rama then asked him whether or not he followed the rules of the purusharthas properly. In the Ramayana, Rama defined them, roughly, in this manner: Artha should not interfere with Dharma and vice versa. Similarly Kama should not interfere with either Dharma or with Artha. Dharma means the duties and welfare one does for society. Artha means earnings (here it is advised that tax should not be more than 16% of a person’s income), Kama means pleasure. One is allowed to have pleasure, but without affecting the duties and earnings. The second instance of definition is when Kumbhakara, Ravana’s brother, advises Ravana that one should use Dharma in the morning, Artha in the daytime, and Kama at night. He further says to Ravana that he is busy with Kama all of the time and this will take him to destruction. Perhaps contradictorily, one of Ravana’s minister reprimands Kumbhakarna for not paying attention to proper balance of the Purusharthas, and to please his master says that a King may enjoy Kama at any time. Surely, one can perceive the likeness of the forward from the Kama Sutra.

So, with all that said, all sources contemplated, this is the part where I tell about how much writing this paper has enlightened me, how I am going to be an advocate for the proper use of language, how much I love doing MLA format research papers, how I’ve come to enjoy being in tight spaces with the constant threat of being squished, and how I know I will absolutely adore making thousands of tiny marks on this paper after I print it. In all seriousness, I did enjoy writing this paper. I started out with a vague idea of what I thought the word kama meant, and I have finished knowing what it can mean. Kama is the accumulation of the senses and the derivation of pleasure from them, kama is need and want and desire of pleasure. Kama is extraordinary in that it is shared between all bodily entities, the focus of humanity.

There was a man, W. Somerset Maugham, who said in his book, Of Human Bondage, “Men seek but one thing in life- their pleasure.” With kama in mind, I could not agree more. There was another man, Bertrand Russell, who said, “There is much pleasure to be gained from useless knowledge.”

And, with this paper in mind, well, obviously I agree with him too.

Works Cited

Burton, Sir Richard F. Kama Sutra. Kama Shastra Society, 1876.
The Kama Sutra of Vatsayayana. Dec.-Jan. 2007 .
Hall, Robert A. Linguistics and Your Language. 2nd ed. Garden City: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1960. 6.
Jonas. "Kama." Experience Festival. May-June 2006. Dec.-Jan. 2007 .
"Kama." Roget's International Thesaurus. 4th ed. 1977.
"Kama." Urban Dictionary. 6 Dec. 2006. Dec.-Jan. 2007 http://www.urbandictionary.com.
Kaviraja, Krsnadasa. Caitanya Caitamrta of Krsnadasa Kaviraja. Vol. 56. Cambridge: Department of Sanskrit and Indian Studies, Harvard University, 1999.
Kumar, Animesh, comp. "Acquiring Dharma, Artha, and Kama." Sanskrit Documents. 24 Mar. 2007. Dec.-Jan. 2007 .
Manser, Martin H. Foreign Words and Phrases. Facts on File, Inc., 2002. 212.
Niteowlneils. "Kama." Wikipedia. 26 Jan. 2005. Dec.-Jan. 2007 .
Rice, Edward. Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1990. 444-447.
Russel, Bertrand, and Somerset W. Maugham. "Quotation Search." Quotations Page. Dec.-Jan. 2007 .
V, Jayaram. "Purusharthas or the Four Aims of Life." Hindu Website. Dec.-Jan. 2007 .
Walker, Benjamin. Hindu World: an Encyclopedic Survey of Hinduism. Vol. 1. London: Allen & Unwin, 1913. 514-515.
Yeats, William B. "William Butler Yeats." Poetry Hunter. Dec.-Jan. 2007 .

AVA GARDNER

2007-12-24T15:48:00.000-05:00

This was an assignment for my A.P. Comp class. We all chose an auto/biography to read, then came in posed as our person. Then an interview was conducted and we answered quesitons in first person as our character etc... as a memeber of audience, you chose one of the people to write an article about, guise as a real publication. Thereby aspiring for a specific and established style, proving you'd paid attentin in class, and practisising the art of composition. The end doesn't make sense unless you understand the assignment.. the fact that if the person you were impersonating was dead in real life, you pretended they had temporarily returned in full health.. or as healthy as they ever were... yes. So questions like "how did you die?" could be answered in less absurdity. Final exam... I got an A+. I chose VOGUE

Perhaps no actress in history was as famous for not being an actress than Ava Gardner. Daintily clad in a deep peach, intricate lace, bustier necked farthingale and conspicuous pearl earbobs, Gardner was the personification of exotic beauty. The very embodiment of the glamour of the forties and fifties celebrity, acclaimed by her contemporary counterparts; Elizabeth Taylor, Judy Garland, and others. Gardner was the ideal of her time and relegated to the domain of succesful moody actresses. Known, to extent that she is known by the general audience member(the original interview took place last week on "The Show," show), only as the wife of famed Mickey Rooney, Artie Shaw, and Frank Sinatra. The interview with the most beautiful woman ever, as put by Elizabeth Taylor, proved there was more to this "love goddess" than meets the eye.

When her interviewer asked why someone would want to write a book about her, her first words were, "Hell if I know." In typical Gardner style it seems the interview progressed, with Gardner riding along with her wits poised for action, ready to be flung from her mouth swifter than than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. Not all of her responses were as brief, amusing as were, however, and the answers provided to other questions were teeming with interesting facts about her life.

Born Ava Lavinia Gardner in Grabstown, North Carolina, on Christmas Eve in 1922, Gardner was raised in a average-to-do household with many siblings, and grew up with few airs and little ambition. The turning point in her life, she recognised, was when she went to visit her older sister in New York in 1941. Her sister’s boyfriend at the time was a photographer and snapped shots of Ava as an amateur model. He then posted these pictures of her in a store window display and deposited them with the New York office of MGM studios. These first photographs brought attention to Ava, and she was subsequently called down to the office for a screen test. Delighted by the unforced manner of her acting, but perturbed by her heavy southern accent, they sent a silent bit to Hollywood. "After my screen test, the director clapped his hands gleefully and yelled, ‘She can’t talk! She can’t act! She’s sensational!’" There, the decision to call Gardner down to the West Coast office was made in half a mo.

Gardner’s discovery did not catapult her into stardom, however, MGM only used her as a pin- up model and a supernum- erary actress. Sotto voce, Gardner exclaimed that she was never anything more than an ingenue anyway. Between the years 1943 and 1944 she appeared in nine MGM productions uncredited. Other movie-makers seemed to see more than a soubelle, and frequently ‘borrowed’ her from MGM. Some of her most memorable roles, including Venus in One Touch of Venus and Kitty Collins in The Killers were both production of United Artists, not MGM. Gardner supposed in her interview that perhaps after gaining popularity in the boxoffice, to be sure it was not with critics, MGM realised her beauty and talent and began casting her for starring parts. The first of which being in The Hucksters alongside Clark Gable(my personal favourite actor.) Incidentally, Gable, best known for his portrayal of the lovable rogue from the greatest grossing film of all time, Gone With The Wind, Rhett Butler, was one of the only literary characters Gardner was familiar with. She claimed to have read only two books ever, those being said one-hit-wonder by Margaret Mitchell and The Bible.

Gardner maintained her ataraxy even with MGM’s revelation, and her supine attitude toward her work in movies was evident in the interview. "I didn’t like any of them. It was for the money, honey." Her nonchalance was perhaps evidence of a previous run-in with a famous person: "Maybe I just didn’t have the temperament for stardom.I’ll never forget seeing Bette Davis at the Hilton in Madrid. I went up to her and said, ‘Miss Davis, I’m Ava Gardner and I’m a great fan of yours.’ And do you know, she behaved exactly as I wanted her to behave. ‘Of course you are, my dear,’ she said. ‘Of course you are.’ And she swept on. Now that’s a star."

Gardner abhorred what fame had brought her. After the failure of her first and second marraiges, and the cuckoldry that ensued between her and the observed of all observers, pipulistic and hopeless libertine, Frank Sinatra, it seemed that all the limelight had brought her was unwelcome surveillance. The bill-and-cooers met while Sinatra was still married, during a lower point of his career. In any case, the paparazzi still stuck to him like lips on a whistle.© Given the Gardner’s piquant and Sinatra’s magnetism, the dalliance received much media interest, and Catholic interference. Some church members suggested that Sinatra’s records and Ava’s movies be boycotted. This was damaging to Frank, or Francis, as Gardner tenderly referred to him, but did little to impact her career. Of course, gossip continued to flourish alongside and against the relationship.

The mesalliance that occurred between vir et uxor, established in 1951, was to be known as the romance of the century. Gardner said that the marriage did not change the relationship, though, and querulousness of the two was not undone. She later dumped him, though she admitted in her interview that he would call her during intermission and talk and sing to her for hours on the telephone. Also a statue of Gardner was given to Sinatra, and it stayed in his yard and his general vicinity even into his next marriage, before the new wife told him to remove it. Gardner also revealed that after her death in 1990 of bronchial pneumonia Sinatra locked himself in a room for three days lamenting over the loss of her life and his loss of her love.

Before and after Gardner’s move to spain following a messy breakup and unwanted aftereffects yeilded by unimaginable personal interference by the press, Gardner’s craft fait accompli, and at the culmination of her career over five decades she had a fructification of nearly 70 film and television spots, even if in middle-age she had only worked on films intermittently and with third-tier directors. Ava was cast sometimes because of her unforced style of acting and her exquisite lovelyness. While she was seen by some as a genious believable actress- "I have only one rule abour acting- trust the director and give him heart and soul-’’Gardner was often viewed by critics as a slinky glamour girl with no acting talent. In anycase, Gardner was somewhat reflective of her role in the somewhat anachronistic The Barefoot Contessa, in which her character Maria remains unimpressed by the onslaught of stardom.

Posthumously, Ava Gardner is still as jejune and mesmeric as can be remembered, and in her own words is still "deep down, pretty superficial."

I WATCH

2007-12-17T15:44:00.000-05:00

not birds.... well, I would if it weren't winter...

anyhow..

GREAT NEWS IN THE REALM OF FILMERY!
word...?

My favourite series; being J.K.Rowlings, Libba Bray, and of Stephenie meyer; all are in movie production points.
Of course, harry Potter is no secret by any means, but Stephenie Meyer's Twilight is in casting phase: with Robert Pattison as the godlike Edward, and Kristen Stewart as Bella. Summit is producing. I am satisfied with the casting list, Robert has even been in Harry Potter as Cedric Diggory- and Kristen Stewart I know from Speak, an interpretation of Speak, a great book in my opinion. I've been awaiting the production of this movie for years. A friend of mine, Sadaf, has been alongside. We read the latest installment of the series, Eclipse, together, page by page. Speaking of, my best friend also kneeled by my side as I puked out my stomach with my first bout of alcohol poisoning. Terrible However, in the worst of ways, it has shrunk my stomach, and I do foresee a loss of weight in the future. This is nearly good, as I've been teetering over 140 pounds lately- while 125 lbs. is my ideal weight at my height. I have steadily been gaining weight over the past two years, due to bouts of gluttony. Argghh.

Well, now I can't stand to eat much more than a dark chocolate kiss when it comes to snacking, and fruit is the only thing on the menu at any other time.

The other in pre-production is A Great and Terrible Beauty, by Libba Bray, whose livejournal can be found through a link on my page. Witty. There isn't a cast list yet, but I'll be checking iMDB every so often...

So other additions to my christmas wishlist are movies: Factory Girl, Harry Potter Series, The Black Balloon, The Strangers, Pink Pyjamas, Marie Antoinette, Alamorisse(one of his films, that is), Juno( i love Michael! as do many others...), Candy.

<3

TODAY I AM DYING

2007-12-10T00:28:00.000-05:00

I feel in a literal sense I am coming apart. Like the trees lost their leaves in autumn, my hair follows suit. For a while, I was reminsicent of a Beatle, now I’ve embraced a look of corporate, less corporeal. (I first encountered the word corporeal whilst reading a Harry Potter book, about summoning a patronus, and of what caliber it was siphoned into Harry’s world.) I remember sitting in a beautician’s chair for the first time in nearly four years, to have someone else cut my hair. Seeing hair fall on my sleeves and then to the floor with a brush of my hand was something surreal. Strangely enough, I have been toying with the idea of dying my hair platinum blonde. Now I feel a little ironic. Will my head next resemble the snows of the season? I am a little behind the times.
Time is a disgustingly elusive idea. I tapped into this in another column, and I’ve begun wondering again. There is a picture, here, in my mind, of how it works. The job now is to translate it.
I’ve consulted my magical thesaurus. This wonder of man has below a single entry, in this, Time, the links to all the possible interperitations of the word you could think of. Or in any case, of that Mr. Roget could think.
Time, as a noun, has several synonyms, my favourite of which are quotes from authors and philosphers. "The author of authors" in accordance of Francis Bacon, "a short parenthesis in a long period" in accordance with Donne, and "the soul of the world" according to Pythagoras.
None really suit my needs. Then again, I’m not entirely sure what these supposed ‘needs’ are. (Oh, I’d like to warn those people who’ve not yet read or listened to any of my literature: Due to a very unfortunate wiring of my brain, I’m prone to using language loosely, I like to manipulate words to the point of incoherency. So, I beg that you churn water for a while and go with the flow.)
I think this may be because time, in concept, surpasses my imagination. Like the concept of a boundless universe, and even Parallel existence, alternative universes, infinity; all of these I can fantasize about, but never really understand. Even the idea of the mind, and memory is quite beyond me. But those are for other columns.
Time is the most profound of human perceptions.
I am really a pretentious creature, and want to sound really impressive in my writing, so I researched some theories of time, and find all of them out of sync with mine. They suggest that time is a tangible property of the universe, "Under such a conception, time is scalar ( scalar = weight ) and quite passive. It only supplements the spatial arena, against which the events of the universe are played out. Owing to one scalarity of time, in the equations of theoretical mechanics the future is not separated from the past;" not because I need layman’s terms is it that I don’t understand this explanation, but the general theory that time can be discovered by geometric devices and differentiated from space intervals, and the suggestion that time can be predicted in units, are both beyond the capacity of my ego.
I cannot comprehend time in units: those being seconds and hours and days. Those are all earthly products of mathematics, which is another of those theories I’ve never come to grasp. Time is self imposed. The passage of human perception can’t be sliced into periods. Right?
To encapsulate the idea that the world is how we view it, I borrow another quote: "Reality, like time, is partial to the observer." Myself, I don’t know if this is a word for word review, or how unconventional it is to quote from a movie(In this case, that movie is Contact. Terribly good and boggling). In this ‘quote’, the main focus is reality, but work with me. If different people view the world in different ways, then it is obvious that time, to one, can be a contradiction to another. If this is, and I’m sure it might, then why do we constrict ourselves to one measure? And such an ignorant measure, at that! The sun is used to measure days and thereby hours. But it can never be equal. Imagine the earth is not the only planet in this universe with conscious beings. I doubt the other planets with life move around a star and turn over at the same rate. Does that mean time moves differently for them? Or am I even going too far to say that all other life forms even find it necessary to measure time? Where does this leave knowledge, or the idea of a definite passage of events? Can we say there is such a thing if everything is relative and a contradiction? Multiple perceptions of the passage of time contradict and exclude each other. Perhaps this is to show that the true existence of time outside the mind is nonexistent.
What exists is a process of life, and of living, and experiences that happen during. A process that reduces things to chaos. Entropy. This is not time. Time is not an entity to be measured, or a container of events. Past, Present, and Future I find to be neither nor. The other is the same. Together they are nothing. The past was once the future, and was at a point the present. What is now thought of as the future will be present and past again and what is the present is nonexistent. And yet…
I once heard or read that the sky of night that we look upon is only an image of the actual sky a million years in the past, as it takes a millino years or so for the ligh to reach the earth, or something. And a million years in the future, anything that looks into the sky will see what is happening now. So, what then takes precidence and is therefor the present?
This is discombobulation to the extreme.
I am perplexed by us, as in the human species including me, that we are perpetually seeking order through time, an illusion, a medium of chaos. As I approach 1,1150 words I observe that time, as we govern it, can be thought of as a sort ribbon without beginning or end, continuously existing as idea, but without encomassing any ability to elicit a response in the material universe. In this way, events should take place outside of time, but, because we insist apon it, with the aide of time. I mean, isn’t an event a perception of an effect of a cause? Time is active in shaping our perception of life, and therfor death, which in some ways, is the essence of our world.
Today I am dying…

ETSY, I LOVE

2007-12-07T09:46:00.000-05:00

http://www.etsy.com/
a place to buy and sell all things homemade!!

this is a better than ebay i think. which i recently got: ajafrank. haven't started selling yet. I'm not yet sure how to go about shipping and all that fun stuff.

look at this great dress i found. 75$

I'm not buying it, but maybe you are? about size 6-8. seller: interrobang.

or this great shirt by seller circularaccessories:

or tricoteuse's wonderful wrap:

this is a site to mark.

A STOLEN INTERVIEW...

2007-12-05T22:54:00.000-05:00

Name: Aja
Blog name: An Eclectic Left of Center
Finish this sentence: "My Blog is" … about bits of life, fashion, myself. I plan to start doing a ‘what I wore’ thing so I can share my own style. Maybe stop sounding so much like a weird 42yr. Old man.
Finish this sentence: "My own style is" … underdeveloped. I don’t like to wear the same outfit twice, which is hard to do on my budget! I do follow some trends, but there is something always off about me. I like to think I dress unusually with usual items. Must be my demeanor…Also- I can never throw away clothes, so it looks like I have a big wardrobe, but really ahlf the stuff I can’t bring myself to wear. I keep thinking one day I’ll be inspired to rennovate them, or wear them in a new way.
Do you usually change your look (clothes or hairstyle)? I’m forever changing my hair. In fact, I revently cut my hair VERY short, so to make it a little more interesting I’m thinking of doing a bit of old Agyness Deyn with the white-blond cut.
Favourite item in your wardrobe: A scarf from Peru from Father, a scarf from Spain from Mother.
What would you never wear? A waterbra. Oh the horror stories!
Favourite Autumn Winter 2007/2008 Collection: but it is so wearble and most important, versatile.
Favourite Designer: YSL, Dior, and Chanel. Those will remain forever classics. I enjoy watching Betsy Johnson shows though like being on drugs without the drugs.
This season Must-Have Leather: A warm coat!
An accessory you cant live without: A necklace. Most frequently being a plain chain holding my keys. I’m sucha scatterbrain!
A trend to adopt: I personally like to go a day, about once a month, going to school in a very boring, unfashionable outfit. A.K.A. old flare jeans, tshirt that barely hides your midriff, stupid looking hair. Corny as it sounds, it really makes me appreciate people who dress well, including myself!
Do you wear make up everyday? Probably.
What make up product (s) you can't live without? L’Oriel mascara in the gold tube that looks like those children lightsaver swords. I have short eyelashes, and that always works well.
Do you change fragrances regularly? I usually stick to something warm, like vanilla. I love old scents, Lemon Verbosa, grandma-y smells.
Who is your favourite fashion icon? The Olson twins are great. Ava Gardner.
Do you have a favourite Model? Me! Oh yes, I am an aspiring model. I can always appreciate Kate Moss though.
Best Top Model ever: Agyness Deyn probably because I saw picture of her as a younger ‘tween’ and felt hope. She has great style herself..
If you had to choose a year to live, from the last century, what would it be and why? Transition from 50’s to 60’s. I still want to travel to the 20’s and steal a bunch of things from that decade. Brilliant!
Do you have any beauty secrets you want to share? This will sound weird, but cleaning my ears always makes me feel cleaner, fresher, prettier. Looking into someone’s ears and seeing stuff in there is just…. Disgusting.
You never leave home without: forgetting something.
Last fashion purchase: A very very very very soft grey turtle neck.
What music is playing in your Ipod? If I had an Ipod the first thing I would download would be Simon and Garfunkel then everything else.
Favourite restaurant in your city? La Senorita, they have the best salsa for chips, and the atmosphere is authentic.
Favourite foreign city/country? Paris. For the art and the people. Though Dheli /Copenhagen are my first travel destinations.
Hobbies: Mime.
Favourite song: Under The Boardwalk. google the artist, I have dialup internet and I'm tired.

SORRY, I'VE BEEN A BUSY BEE.

2007-12-03T21:16:00.000-05:00

Listening to Lily Allen as of the moment.
Who, I’d like to say, I discovered much earlier than all the tabs and mediagoers.
One of the only musicians I’ve found that have actually become international famous. The next I expect to make is Those Dancing Days. Er’body loves a little bit of Sweden.

The recent weekend was spent with twenty members from our school’s theatre programme at the International Thespian Society Festival on the State level. Gov. Granholm has made December 1st Thespian day, which really is exciting. At this festival I discovered my love for mime, what I’ve been calling my modern ballet is actually this- a more ambiguous form. So I’ve booked mime school over the summer. My friend, Skylar, mentioned in a previous post about borrrowing from your grandmother, were in both mim eowrkshops (three hours) and find ourselves still sore today. We were pretty ‘badass’ as she kept whispering while we were moving without ambition mindlessly. Visualizing orbs resting on our shoulders, confronting eachothers, taking them. No eye contact. Creating a sculpture with other persons. Michael Lee from Opus Mime was our instructor. Fascinating person. Maybe he’ll let me be understudy or something in his company. To practice mime in the meantime I’ll be moving to sounds of The Knife- great techno. You really must check out.

More news- Mom lost her job so we’re most likely moving sometime- new state- depending on Friend of the Court. I never ever see my Dad anymore anyway so I don’t know what the big deal will be. I miss him a bit but not anything he says or does. Not haivng a dad really is a bummer. Hopefully a friend will just take me in because moving so close to my graduation might turn into a disaster. Unfortunately a loss of job resulted in loss of holiday presents- and grad. Presents, and a loss of car insurance on my tinker toy. So now I can’t get a job because I haven’t got transportation. And I’ll be riding to school with mom so early in the morning because stubborn me I refuse to ride the school bus. It is so unhygienic. I really prefer to smell human rather than like some organism spawned form a cesspool while at school, thankyou very much! How great. Too bad, because I think it was a notebook, which I was lookin forward too. Wireless internet is faster than the dial-up virus ridden computer at home. Maybe now I can see pictures, imagine!!

Great accomplishment really in school recently- the skeleton key has been made a copy of. So now I have access to anyhtin I’d like. Luckily for the system, I don’t really steal. I just love to explore and have adventures with friends.

And always about fashion, I am. I haven’t been to the local Goodwill lately, unfortunately, which is really like agoldmine here. We get leftovers from Target and it’s really quite easy to slip things into an oversized bag. With student discount I add bogus amounts to a wardrobe for bogus amounts of air supply.

My ocusin’s nineteenth birthday is the ninth, and I’m working on thinking of something special for her/us to do.

Also I’ve got to crank out a fabulous sculpture for my art teacher in two days, for an international show, as my clay at home dried up over the weekend, I think I’ll do something abstrat, maybe my ear. Or baby sister’s.

Songs I’m working on for performance as of the moment: Glitter and Be Gay from Candide, and Queen of the Night aria from The Magic Flute. Believe it or not, Glitter is mmuch more difficult than the other. I’ve got a range but my control on slurred runs is something to improve on.

More later perhaps. Free hour second hour = blogging.

URBAN SPREE

2007-11-11T19:03:00.000-05:00

18.00

28.00

24.00

9.99

68.00

158.00

140.00

48.00

2 fer 20.00

28.00

28.00

2 fer 25.00

24.00

29.99

49.00

68.00

140.00

39.99

VIKTOR AND ROLF

2007-10-17T19:32:00.000-04:00

OH YES!

2007-10-14T15:12:00.001-04:00

I’d like to introduce you to someone. She is a friend of Barbie, one of the privileged elite, perhaps. She’s got the coolest clothes and the hippest hair. And a big rolling plastic contraption all the little girls are begging their mothers’ for, “Please Mommy, may I have one too?”
And what can a parent say to those big puppy eyes and quivering lips. They remember what happened last time they said no to that face: it cried every night for a week until you bought it that hamster. Stupid thing smelled terrible too, but it was two weeks’ worth of happiness; after that it was your pet and, no offense to rodents, a waste of money. Who in God’s name thought of having a member of the rat family as a house pet?
But this wasn’t remotely like a hamster. This was a wheelchair, with sparkling rims like fountain water in the sun. Treated like an accessory. How do you explain she can’t get one of these?
“No, honey. Those are for people who can’t walk.” Oh dear, better not say that or else you’ll be dragging her along the floor. How about, “Darling, those aren’t for little girls like you. Those are for special little girls.” Uh-oh. Anything but that. Might try a lie, “Sweetie, those are for little girls who don’t mind their parents. Only bad girls get those so they can never jump or skip or play ever again.” Hey, dishonesty isn’t a sin or anything like that, right? Lying to your child wouldn’t be endorsing it, would it? Just hope she never meets a handicapped person. That would be an awkward Parent-Teacher Conference.
So, what’s up with this Becky doll? Wait, did I forget the most interesting thing, shame on me. Becky isn’t really her name, it’s actually Share-A-Smile Becky. Apparently she needs a whole sentence before her name to fit in.
It wasn’t always like that though. She had to have her name changed to Share-A-Smile Becky because before, when her name was just Wheelchair Becky. No kidding. This chick needed a title before her name to announce to the world- I’m not normal! What’s next? Black Bobby and Chinese Charlie? Let’s hope not.
Anyway, the point is, we can only assume, that the kids at school ostracized her. Is Mattel serious? This doll was supposedly meant to teach children tolerance of the disabled, but this just sounds like straight up name calling to me. I mean, if this is the approach you’re going to use, why don’t you go all out, stop this beating around the bush, just name her Please Treat-Me-Like-An-Equal Becky? Shed all ambiguity right then and there with the first glance towards the shelf.
However, that was before she ditched the flannel jacket and customized her wheelchair. Since the name change, Share-A-Smile Becky has joined some extra-curricular activities to aide her in the social realm, she took up photography and joined the Journalism Club at school. Share-A-Smile Becky can’t ride horses, so she takes pictures of the equestrian team instead. Another good lesson for children, it’s good to dream.
I also find it interesting that, feminists take note, the disabled Share-A-Smile Becky wears comfortable clothes: pants with elastic waists, sensible shoes, and roomy shirts. She is also one of the few dolls with flat feet and legs that bend at the knee. Share-A-Smile Becky is dressed and poised for agency, achievement, and creative endeavors in the world. In contrast, the prototypical uninhibited Barbie carries out excessive femininity in her restrictive sequined gowns, crowns, and push-up bras. So while Share-A-Smile Becky implies, on one hand, that handicapped girls are purged from the feminine economy, on the other hand, she also implies that disabled girls might be freed from the expectations induced by their gender. The paradox of Barbie and Share-A-Smile Becky, of course, is that the ultra-feminized Barbie is a shoe-in for misappropriation by men and beauty practices while Share-A-Smile Becky escapes this sexual objectification at the would-be price of her identity and power as a feminine being.
What’s it like for Share-A-Smile Becky when she isn’t being subject to prejudice and social limitations, that is, how’re things on the homestead? Judging by the looks of Share-A-Smile Becky’s fabulously decorated wheelchair, it’s plausible to think that her family is well off. Let’s assume she lives in the Barbie Dream Mansion. To the delight of your daughter, this can be hers for only $100 of your paycheck. But alas, Share-A-Smile Becky’s wheelchair will not fit! It cannot even be squeezed into the elevator. Sorry to those of you dedicated parents who bought that house. It’s not going to work, couldn’t you spare some change to buy one of those model camping tents? I bet it would fit fine in there.
One distressed consumer, a twelve year-old with Cerebral Palsy, informed Mattel that the wheelchair made the house and things inside utterly inaccessible to poor Share-A-Smile Becky, and the Company has graciously changed the house to accommodate the wheelchair. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that they were willing to do that, but I don’t think it should be forgotten that they designed the chair without consideration to this in the first place! How is this reinforcing the idea that disabled people are equals? Especially considering how much money parents have to shell out to get yet another Barbie house- now they have to buy a new one for the doll?
Expanding on that problem, another thing I don’t understand is the wheelchair itself. Why didn’t Mattel look upon this as an opportunity to modify the wheelchair to fit the house? From the looks of the pictures, Becky has about an inch of extra space. This really becomes a source of concern to Activists for the Disabled as the wheelchair in itself does not include a seat belt! When the carpet isn’t totally level, Share-A-Smile Becky gets jostled and, in extreme situations, even gets thrown from the wheelchair. Maybe they could have sold replacement wheelchairs with ramps to replace the stairs on the porch and entry stairs.
Maybe I’m analyzing this too much, I mean, she’s only a doll right?
I suppose I’ll end my little rant now with a bit of irony.
If you were to get a hand on the box for this advocate doll, you’d notice that on the back of the box there is a picture of Becky with pals Barbie and Christine. Becky sits betweenthe two glamazons in her wheelchair, while they stand beside her.l
Stand?
Excuse me, but everyone knows that Barbie, Christine, and all the other Barbie Dolls, can't stand up. Not a single Barbie doll has the capacity to stand on her own. The all have tiny little feet upon which balance is impossible. In reality, Barbie and Christie would be on the ground, face down, while Becky smiles on.

PISS AND MOAN

2007-10-11T18:59:00.001-04:00

For My A.P. Composition class i am to undertake the reading of a biography of Anne Sexton- personne fameux je choisi- and undergo an interview of sorts, impersonating this gal.
Agh the life. Alas, I am very hungry and hurt.
My best friend of two years, one i was "there for" when she thought she was pregnant and had noone else to go to, it was me, mais oui, moi, who listened to her cry about her families problems. And who does she claim to hate. Mais oui, c'est vrai, MOI!
Et pour quoi? I confronted her about talkign behind my back and i called her a bitch for it and told her not to do it again.

So now three years is garbage. Merci, Amber. May your life continue to be unfufilling, purposeless, and generally negative.

I am done with you. If you can do that to me in a milisecond i'm afraid to try to reinstate our friendship... so i wont be taking that chance. Even when you find out I'm the only one who ever put up with your bullshit. Tell me you can't be friends with me because I told you when you were being a bitch. How many times have you called me a bitch! Is this a one-way street and I am missing road signs. Signal. Ahhh.

I did not mean for this to be a rant... but erasing wouldn't be any good now.

COVET...

2007-10-09T21:00:00.000-04:00

Chloe Military Precision Skinny Sailor Pants.

CLONES AND COKEHEADS

2007-09-27T19:42:00.000-04:00

can you spot the difference between these four models?! and just for kicks, imagine lily cole's face with straight blonde hair and maybe she'd be one of the clone's as well. . as long as they're skinny and pretty i'm okay though. hahah

I am convinced she has asome kind of death wish.
yes, i know. disgusting.

More aesthetically pleasing, as always:

How can anyone hate her?

COMPLAINTS

2007-09-26T09:15:00.000-04:00

Also, I am convinced that if this woman can be model for Anna Sui, I should be. What is the purpose of this face look?

I felt the urg to bitch- I watched reruns yesterday of ANTM, where Jaslene and Natasha are in final two. Okay, does anyone else think it is a little hypocritic to be the host of a model competeition and have arms that fat?!

MADE

2007-09-25T08:40:00.000-04:00

Open Casting Call, Big Rapids High School, Wednesday October 10th 3:15-6:15.

WHOA. Okay, so, I rarely watch the show, and when I do, I'm usually appalled. And the idea of being scrutinized by teenagers and most likely, some forty year-old men, the penis's of whom never got over the sweet and supple adolescant body. Hooray for 'To Catch A Predator.' Haha.

ANYHOW. I'm going to these calls anyway, because as nobody knows, it is my absolute dream of dreams to be a model. I don't know if this would do anything for me, but if they give me a diet and a workout plan, I'll take it. Until New York and the lower class and days of bread and water, me from the library, filling out the sheet from the big office.

in other ideas, homecoming was a blast, because I had someone to dance with for every slow song, even thoguh I had no date, and danced slowly twice with the cutest Steven Balkema. Do you know him?

::I think you dress unique::

::What makes you dress like that?::

-the boy sitting next to me.

GOODWILL & HOMECOMING

2007-09-22T15:02:00.000-04:00

lost the homecoming game last night, no surprise.
homecoming dance is tonight and with such a vundervul red flapper dress what could go wrong? to psych myself up i went thrifting and landed proenza schouler skinny jeans, the are khaki with black threads down the center, $3.29, size 3! i'm getting skinnier. seriously i used to be size 7! so hooray for me. anyhow also got the libertine for target black dress with lace collar, $1.99, a mossimo or however you spell it grey sweater dress i've been craving, finally found, the scarf, sheer black with lines tights, love, purple sheer tights as well, white sweater, seriosuly soooo soft ont he inside, and last but not least an interesting old man looking cardigan which i am in loooove with.
anyhow, back to that dance and that dress and my red pumps. i don't know why i'm nervous, that boy from A.P. Composition has been looking lately, and walks across the room to get my things. hmmmm... wondre if he'll ask me to dance? we'll see.

i've got to go to my grandmother's for more thriftness. later later love. will post pictures eventually...

YES YES YES!!!

2007-09-16T16:37:00.000-04:00

greatest news in the world[at the moment]

GOSSIP GIRL has been made into a tele series premiering on the CW on the nineteenth.

having a party to celebrate.

AMERICAN APPAREL

2007-09-16T15:32:00.001-04:00

can you imagine how many ways you could wear this? staple staple staple.
these would be perfect for lounging around the studio. fantastic colour. i've been needing a white skirt like this for a while. i'm thinking a solid colour tee would look good tucked in. perhaps a contrasting coloured old man sweater on top would be in order.
absolutely adorable. love love love. i'm seeing this worn with a really strange texture plain spaghetti strap shirt, tucked in. strappy sandals. i want this, i need it. worn with wool tights and legwarmers and armwarmers and that's that.
seeing this with contrasting colour leggings, yah? ankle boots preferred.
i'm simply wearing this with absolutely everything until the elbows are worn into something the same thickness as tissuepaper. by the way, who else is absolutely loathing lotion kleenex? you might as well spray cooking oil on your face.

INPUT

2007-09-16T00:51:00.002-04:00

much of this i have.
so many nice things have occured to day.
1. ege finally emailed me back, and has informed me he misses me, especially my sl=pleen.[yes, weird boy]
2. i am ITS state board choreographer.
3. i have brainstormed an idea for my column due in a week .

it is 1:00 a.m. and i'm not a wee bit tired.

JOJOVICH HAWK & KAREN WALKER

2007-09-11T22:53:00.000-04:00

Designer <3

Darling darling structure, darling darling colour schemes.

Okay so.. to day was succesful, up until now. You see, I've forgotten a list of vocabulary I've got a quiz on second period in my locker, so I'll be studying that during first. Also, I'm too tired to actually write an essay I've got to do for A.P. Comp., but that's my fifth period so I can cram it in pretty efficiently during lunch. Besides, I'll be needing hel on that, as I've no clue what it's about anyway. Speaking of APC, turned in the two drawings and recieved envy and other positive responses. Nothing like showing-off how fantastic you are when it comes to art with a room full of totally unartistic people for an ego boost.

Anyway, back to designers I've recently discovered and would die for. Jojovich has got this absolutely stunning little dress I need.
Though I do think it would be better in black- change the lilac to creme. Like antique lace or something. How nice.

The website isn't cooperating for my compupter, but maybe it will work for yours:jovovich-hawk

There is another dress I didn't include. But picture a light yellow number, high collar from bottom of the neck down to the knees, lampshade skirt looking pleats. amazing.

RANDOM ON MY ASS

2007-09-09T22:52:00.000-04:00

Read Gossip Girl?
Well, I've got this row of the series, and a sunday night with nothing better to read, swathed Nothing Can Keep Us Together. Which reads like a fantastic blog like the ones I pereuse here.
Very nice, very nice.
I want to be the point of the "being jealous of anyone that impossibly tall, curvy, and gorgeous would be a total waste of time."
I am tall, not curvy, and only gorgeous 1/3 of the time, if I even dare.

I seriously cannot wait for my hair to grow out. Looking forward to a bob, let's give it for February.

At 11:32 with nothing to do, I'm considering rearrangining my wardrobe, i've got no real input for the blog, and internet is too slow to keep browsing these fantastic blogs.
Check daddylikey and painfullyhip. very very nice nice.

Should I go dark-light or rainbow style? wait, which comes first: black, red, green, white, or purple? and after that...

Oh, and for school to morrow.
How to spice up a simple white dress?

I'M ALL EARS

2007-09-08T21:19:00.000-04:00

So, what have I got. No camera, bloody eyes, and a missing book.
I need me some elliot smith soon before i tear out my hair. keep thinking things i don't want to think about. something's upset me.
I called my Da and listened[halfish] to his gospel abou living in the truth and implying with every syllable I should move out of le maison de ma mere and live with him. not happening.
unfortunately the school in that area is completely beneath me, to be honest. no A.P. courses available, tiny band, no drama programme, et cetera.

mon frere est tres malheure. i tried to get him to come with me to ma Da's but to nothing. He punched my arm while I was driving nearly eighty on the highway. My left arm and neck is quite bruised and swollen. i don't believe in violence, so i just kind of took it.
I don't know what I did. he just blew.

I'll give him a while. i just took him home and then went to my room to read. he's saying i shouldn't have tried to take him to Da's, and wont apologize, even with my Mother begging him to. I don't really mind. he'll be okay soon. I just hope I don't get in his way next time he is in that sort of mood again.
Mascara and salt water totally ruined to grey shirt i was wearing though. I'll have to geta new one. Or just wear it with dark greey splotches like that is how I bought it.

check out: facehunter.blogspot.com &&&&&&& heareverythingsaynothing.blogspot.com

very nice commentary. and great candid photos.

listen: Gravy Train; Nervous. Interesting hhaha.

LALA NOTHINGATALL

2007-09-08T17:18:00.000-04:00

Going to my Da's to day. I want Xavier, the brother to come, but he does not want to, so I am basically kidnapping him. I've got changes of clothes for him in the car. I'm going to say I'm just going home, but we'll get on the highway instead and for an hour he'll be very upset. Then when we get there he will be happy I forced him to come.
Went costume shopping to day with The Director of the Musicale, to no one's luck. I'll be needing a wig this year, didn't find any good ones there. And the costume store in GR was terrifyingly stark.
Okay, well, I'll be off now.
Sometime I'm going to post the assignment I got great compliments on. It's not too long, and i do believe it's very good.
For now.

BONJOUR

2007-09-07T23:48:00.002-04:00

A raging succes to dday, in general.
20/20 on A.P. Bio test, top compliments in A.P. Comp from prof and class in general, extremely fun game of Freeze[will explain], not so great marching, but the team won after a quadrouple overtime. I didn't know those existed. Mother came during school, took my car and filled the tank. Came home to find a box of no-fat cookies. Sang on a bus with a former crush with whom I am now extremely close friends.
The only undesirable event occuring would be my msn not staying connected right now.

Bjork's Pluto is raping my ears and I enjoy it. To day was a succesful day in fashion" silver leggings from UOs, white undershirt from AE, lace print baby top from Charlotte Russe, black and white keds, giant silver statement necklace.

Okay, so what's Freeze? It's a fantastically fun game of Improvisations. basically a group of ten or more will sit in a circle, while two are in the center. They are arranged into strange positions and then are told GO! They start acting and blah blah. At any time a person sitting may call FREEZE! and replace one of the actors. From there they can change the story entirely. If you have enough enthoustiastic people playing, this game may go on for literally hours.
have you ever seen Who's Line Is It Anyway?[great show, by the way] I'd say it's like the games they play. Ryan Stiles owns my heart. <333

Seen the musical ONCE APON A MATTRESS? It's this years fall musicale, and I'm sure to get a lead as it's my senior year, and well, I'm great. unfortunately I have big competition who happens to be a major kiss-ass. So we'll find out how that goes. Auditions are next week. Phhiiishhh.

Ah gah, i just remembered I've left my journal in my school locker for the weekend. Gahhh I hate when this happens.

DREAMS OF NEW YORK

2007-09-04T17:34:00.000-04:00

So, great news!

Firstly, and the most exciting, is that I have been enrolled in the Airline Acadamy!
Secondly, school has started and got off to a semi-enjoyable start.

Thirdly, word has it, in my first year of earnings with a company, I will make around 25,000. Which means if I don't eat much and don't use a tele- or atleast, not one I have to pay for- I can get a studio apartment in the Upper East Side or in Soho 3 months after my eighteenth birthday. Five years of that and I can eat again. hooray. I could definitely live here. Or there, for that matter.

So, that is the dream for now.

So it looks like all the worrying about colleges and stuff was all for nothing. My idealistic future has been set in motion already, and it's a wish come true. Well, almost. I'm sort of in shock.
I'm going to post a neat web site on here, otherwise I will forget it. http://maps.live.com/ very very handy. Another plus, living here would mean I have a limited food supply, and being myself, I only eat healthy food becasue grease literally makes me vomit, along with walking long distances for items and passing the time, I should be in model shape by the end of the first year. Which, let me tell you, is the ulterior motive to setting myself up in new york. Lucky enough for a street casting?? <333>

Also, I found a picture of ma self in passing. Feeling faint, by the looks of it. Not very good, I think.

SISTER SCREAMS

2007-09-01T18:14:00.002-04:00

Madelyn has stopped crying, thankfully.

She has a tummy ache I think, because she cries even when she is feeding.

She is growing quite a lot, her head is significantly bigger. She looks like Grace Kelly.

Besides that To day was interesting. Currently I am watching "The Election," which I am enjoying immensly.

School will start infive days and I do not care. This year I will only do all my work to get A's in every class and hopefully go to Sarah Lawrence, or Pratt, or Richmond. Or none of those. Whatever. I have a great wardrobe, so now I will not be so timid. Money from the government is nice. P.S. vote Barack, if you have a brain.

I have suscribed to this models.com site and need pictures of myself. I have no camera unfortunately. I will need to get some soon. I am 5'8", I wiegh 120 lbs. I believe I have a nice face. Unique looking, I am told. My eyes are fairly wide apart and green. Perhaps when I have pictures I will show.

Fin.

MONEY$$FOR44

2007-08-29T11:05:00.000-04:00

Hallo! Guess, what I am going shopping today!
Armed with eighty dollars and a town full of thrift stores I should be as lucky to find something worthy of my body.
Wishlist:
a simple white dress.
cute skinny jeans[i need some more]
lovely cardigan(s)
ballet flats
scarf or belt
the rest of the money goes to the goodies, underclothes, et cetera.

An interesting thing last night, a blood moon. Very beautiful. Took pictures, great silhouette shot. Another thing last night, the start of my new diet. Basically all fruit, and the only oils allowed being that of the olive. The only meat-esque thing being fish and bean burgers, which are delish. I will blog everyday[hopefully] to make sure I stick. I have problems sticking with these wonderful diets I make up. Right now I'm in shape, I suppose, but as i'll be going to New York ina year and I'm hoping to get in some casting places, to make up for my diminuitive figure[only 5'8" folks] I need to be in tiptop form. Not a long way to go.

<3<3 Confessions of A Casting Director and An Alien in New York <3<3

BEYOND GOODWILL

2007-08-28T21:40:00.000-04:00

GRAN'S CLOSET

Sorry about the double post today, but this didn't seem to fit with the introduction.

I'd like to share some magic with youall: shop at your granmothers.

Chances are they'll let you take anything that catches your eye, because, welll, she's your grandma! And she doesn't wear that stuff anymore anyway..
It's like your own personal thrift shop, but everything is better than cheap, and you don't have to go through as much dirty post-80's garbage[that'd be nineties, and the now. I'm sorry.]

I've inherited some fabulous printed tights, great blouses, and loads of jewelry. But, maybe I am just lucky. My granmother in question owns and manages a thrift shop downtown. I only have to pick what I like and bag it. But, to prove I'm not the only one, a friend of mine sits among her discoveries. [my internet connection is slow right now, please the link.]
http://a858.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/98/l_674dd9b598218a9337ce9f8116242431.
*orgasm*

And, a word to the wise, don't ever let your friends borrow, or give them your stuff, or the stuff that should be yours. in my experience they turn out not to be your friends, and now you're regrettting letting them have all that stuff. Catty bitches.

SO.
If you haven't gone already, I suggest you book it. Think how sorry you'll be when you inquire about a cousin's cute little clutch at the next fam. reunion and she tells you "Our Grandma gave it to me..."

In extension.. not only may you find fabulous vintage accessories, you mihgt find some great books and postcards, old letters, etc. If you think of yourself as one of those intelligentle, you might be surprised. The rest of your family is perhaps not all as stupid as you thought.

HALLO

2007-08-28T21:19:00.002-04:00

Hallo.
Have you yet noticed, this is my first post?
Yes, myspace has lost it's touch[after four years, the gilt shine has definitely rubbed off, now the grey plastic is apparent.] I joined myspace my freshman year of highschool, after the prompting of my friends. I admit to giving in to this sort of peer pressure. Anyway-Four hundred friends later, a zillion bulletins flaunting friend requests strong, I am officially worn out.
And even though I am sick, I cannot delete it. I will save it and return once everysooften to check up on the bands I've come to love.

So, in search of something less drama-provokactive, and a sight more anonymous, I have come to blogspot. After browsing several fashion blogs and social commentaries, I must say I am dazzled.
Maybe I will add another sparkle to this scintillating mass of witty, people pereusing checks, and even more the thing sthese people wear.

So, I will tell you about myself.
Sadly, I live in a small college town, which would be great, but I am not in college yet. Save that for next fall. I'm thinking of going somewhere in New York. hopefully I will be accepted somewhereabouts. Hacking through highschool, sofar, my record is respectable, but unremarkable. 3.2ish grade point... I know. I'm ashamed. I would go on and give youall my sordid excuses but I annoy myself when I do that. Let me just tell you I have been homeless or couch hopping about 2/3 of highschool sofar. That'd be two years out of three. My grandmother was kind enough to house me this summer. Now I am back at home because my mother has had a new baby, 14 years the youngest of her children. Madelyn is a week old baby who delights herself by making strange gurgling noises from the pit of her stomach and gets the hiccups frequently.
myself, I am about seventeen with an ambition for an invisible something. I have yet to discover what I'm looking for.

For now I am wanting to see Factory Girl, I heard it was good. And Marie Antoinette, which I heard was bad. But I have a soft spot for crappy movies.