Albeit Her Sickness...

"And, this, is my brain

It's torturous analytical thoughts

Make me go insane.

And I use mouthwash,

Sometimes I floss.

I got a family,

And I drink cups of tea.

I've got nostalgic pavements,

I've got familiar faces,

I've got a mixed-up memory,

And I've got favourite places.

And I'm singing on a Friday night"

"Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry

make me very very happy"

AHH. Sometimes I forget how much I LOVE Kate Nash. Her lyrics win for cute, blunt, and relatable. While searching for my favorite lyrics of hers, I was reminded that her WHOLE Made of Bricks cd is wonderful and real.

Yesterday was a fantastic day. I can't even pin point exactly why... it just was. As is life as of lately. I'm just having a lot of fun and breathing deeper than I ever thought possible (Except for my little asthma attack the other night. I apologize, lungs, for forgetting you need inhaling assistance occasionally). I'm meeting so many wonderful people this semester, my lab partner is fantastic, I'm playing my french horn, our choral music rocks, my friends are so lovely, and most of my classes are just downright fun.

Also, yesterday I purchased heels and OPI for under $10. This definitely doesn't hinder a girl's mood.

Well, that and the fact that re-reading Harry Potter is simply delectable. I forgot how much humor lies throughout the series. There's something weirdly nostalgic about being introduced to characters and situations in the first book that are already fully developed in your head. It's weird knowing the fate of these newly explained magical characters.

So, I was excited to go to the St. Olaf concert this Sunday. Well, guess what? It's during the Vikings game. Try getting your Minnesotan friends to skip that. It's a lost cause. Even the geekiest choir geeks. Sigh. I won't give up hope, I really want to go. I wonder if they give discounts to alumni's children. We give them money, don't we father?? They call us enough!

I'm seeing Avatar again tomorrow. I kind of really want to see Lovely Bones more, but Josh hasn't seen Avatar, and I feel as though every boy should see it in theaters. Therefore, I will oblige to this. Especially since it's free for me. ;]]

So that Pants on the Ground fella on American Idol has been pretty big news this last week, and I love Andrew (DJ Nostalgia) dearly... so I shall promote his remix. The remix has 80,000 views already, and the dance video of his crazy misfit friends has 13,000.

Disclaimer (mostly to my mother): This is NOT all Andrew does. This might be kinda intense and weird for you, mommy... but I know you don't understand what he does. Don't take this as an explanation.)

Stacy and I are seeing We The Kings, Mayday Parade, and A Rocket to the Moon next weekend in the cities. I AM EXCITED. Especially because "Smile Kid" is We The Kings fantastic new album, and there's just something about concerts that leaves you elated. Whether it's Josh Groban... Ben Folds... or We The Kings. They're just fun.

Rad: DUDLEY IS A STUD!

Unrad: Lack of coherence in most of my blogs. : /

alwayslove;;

Delete.

"If the Party could thrust its hand into the past

and say this or that even, it never happened—

that, surely, was more terrifying than mere torture and death."

-George Orwell, 1984

Deletion. Sometimes, deletion is scary. Other times, it's a relief. Perhaps it's a situation which both of those adjectives are accurate.

Deleting. Exhilarating, refreshing, painful, difficult, purposeful, accidental, frightening beyond belief.

Delete. A Permanent farewell.

Why is the act of deleting something so scary? Is it because it erases proof of it ever happening? Is it because we now know what we've deleted only exists in our slowly failing, fading memory? Maybe it's because we're afraid regretting this permanent farewell.

Usually you think of accidental deletion as the most painful. One time when I was little, I accidentally deleted over a hundred unlocked level codes for one of my cousins favorite computer games. Another time, I accidently deleted every song on my iPod. These aren't fun. Relief is not an adjective associated with these deletions. With that being said, other times relief is the dominant adjective associated with deleting things that have to do with mistakes you've made.

The process of forgetting is your mind's natural way of deleting. Sometimes, we wish we would never forget our memories. Yet, other times we cannot forget them fast enough. Each is a gift, a blessing.

The gift to hold on, and the gift to let go.

However, our minds are not randomly selective. We naturally hold on to things we want to let go, and let go of things we want to hold on to.

Would we change this if we had the choice? Well, one of the "solutions" would be similar to Alzheimers. I don't think anyone would wish this upon themselves, or anyone. However, the "solution" on the other side of the spectrum would be to have an impeccable memory. I once saw a woman on 20/20 who remembers 99% of everything in her life, as precisely detailed as it had happened five minutes ago. While she says many people often tell her they wish they had what she was able to do, she says she wishes she did not have such a remarkable memory. Deaths, breakups, mistakes... everything bad and good remains as fresh in her memory as a newly picked strawberry. She is without the blessing of the natural fading memory healing mechanism.

The things we delete are often permanently cast away. They will go from living in an obtainable concrete existence, to fading into memories only we know as once real. We must be careful with such a powerful tool.

What a frightening process.

What a blessing.

Rad: Martin Luther King Jr. Also, Martin Luther. Also, this... it raises the question, "What CAN you do with a Poe bust?"

Unrad: I have no complaints about this day of sorts.

Says here an astronaut put on a pair of diapers, drove eighteen hours to kill her boyfriend. And in my hotel room, I'm wondering if you read that story too. And if we might be having the same imaginary conversation.

Wake Me Up.

You said "See look, that's yours. Stacked on top with your brother's See how they resemble one another Even in their plastic little covers"

And I said I know it well.

-Bon Iver

I gave Rachel's little Bon Iver friend another try. I was determined to really feel into his music. The first time I tried when Rachel first told us about her little famous friends, I tried, got bored, and just paid more attention to Daredevil Christopher Wright (like my mom [: ).

But seeing as you hear about Bon Iver everywhere these days, I was determined to give him another try. So I thoroughly listened to his music (I mean really listened) side by side with with lyrics, and really enjoyed a few. So, I now have a new found appreciated for Bon Iver, and will continue to listen to his music. You can go tell him that now, dear sister. :]

I just heard an interview with Ke$ha. She's the ultimate goof. Weird, but not crazy creepy weird. *cough*

She said she likes guys with mustaches, mullets, and who have a hard time seeing so that they don't look at other girls. So, start growing the facial hair, boys. And take out your contacts.

Oh! E.E. Cummings. (This is an explanation for the poem in my last blog)

"Grasshopper. Who as we look up now gathering into a T, he leaps arriving to rearrangingly become grasshopper," This poem captures the image of how throughout life, a person spends their life changing themselves and comforming to different ideals. Only once they find who they are

they rearrangingly become themselves.

Cool, huh?

I have no insult today, I'm sorry. I'm just not feelin' it. I don't even really know why I posting this little piece of ramble. It was mostly to tell Rachel I like her friend. I have nothing more to say, and I have to go.

Rad: Having a number of loving options.

Unrad: Not going to bed till 5 AM.

<3

Conforming Non-Conformists

"When we arrive at eternity’s shore

Where death is just a memory and tears are no more

We’ll enter in as the wedding bells ring

Your bride will come together and we’ll sing

You’re beautiful."

I like this picture. Not only do I like that it sparkles (of course), and that it looks as though her body was photoshopped, but I also just like the simplicity of it's message amidst all the sparkle. I think I'm begining a little of a feminism kick. In a good way. I finally purchased Captivating, and am very much looking forward to reading it. I need it.

I cannot even express how fantastic it feels to be in a class with people like me. Today in Literature, we were given five minutes to write a few things about the reviews we chose for Sorcerer's Stone. The entire time I just listened in to the two girls behind me discussing A Very Potter Musical. Oh. Goodness. I joined their small group for the next activity.

Some of the negative reviews we found online seemed to be written by ignorant readers who wrote these spiteful reviews about hating the book just because they didn't want to join the hype. This was just a personal opinion, but someone raised their hand and brought this up. Then we got into this whole thing about conforming non-conformists. Have you ever been a conforming non-conformist? I know I have. Those were in my younger days, though. Tehe.

Then! Then! We were discussing classic literature vs. contemporary, and how a lot that is popular now is just a fad and will fade out. Someone mentioned how they thought Twilight would fade out, and another girl mumbled, "I sure hope so." Bahaha. =]]

Next order of business. Conan O' Brien is one classy guy. Amidst all these NBC rumors, he released this letter to the population of the world. I always did like this man more than Leno. He just keeps supporting my opinion more and more with all this drama. Keep it classy, Conan.

Now for an insult:

"Lets meet as little as we can."

- As You Like It

I know this isn't fancily worded, but I find its blunt nature to be quite humorous.

I will leave you with one of my favorite poems by E.E. Cummings. I remember the first day I read this peom, when Katie introduced me to the brillaince that is E.E. Cummings. I have yet to find a poet that utilizes the parenthesis more than he. If you cannot figure it out, have no fear. I will explain next blog.

r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r

who

a)s w(e loo) k

upnowgath

PPEGORHASS

eringint (o-

aThe) :l

eA

!p:

S a

(r

rIvInG .gRrEaPsPhOs)

to

rea (be) rran (com) gi (e) ngly

,grasshopper;

Rad: Who knew Sufjan Stevens was so attractive?!

Unrad: My THURSDAYS.

Currently Reading: Twelfth Night and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Cha-Ching Cherry

"Good morning, Harry Potter fans!"

This, my dearest friends and family, is how my first day of classes started. I consider this day a success. Intro to Lit (aka Harry Potter) was delightful. I smiled a lot. I had a class in this classroom last semester, with about 25 people in the class... a normal size for the room. This semester there are over 50 students in this same classroom. As I glanced around the room I quickly realized that I had never been in such a diverse class. All college age levels represented, some obvious jock material just trying to get in their gen eds, some obvious book worms sitting on the edge of their seats, and several girls who didn't seem to be Harry Potter people at all. I don't know how I could tell, I mean I guess it was just a first impression stereotype of these girls.

This stereotype was quickly shot down. A girl in my small group who could have easily passed as a "cheerleader" said she had read the series ten times and was such a nerd. I smiled.

Then we went around and stated our majors. More than one person mentioned creative writing. I smiled.

Then our teacher talked about previously teaching C.S. Lewis, and Tolkin. I smiled.

Then she asked what we wanted to learn about literature. Someone mentioned plot development, character development, foreshadowing. Several of these sentences from people suggesting started with, "Well, I'm a writer so..." I smiled.

My second class of the day was math. After running around Trafton for about 10 minutes trying to figure out where the heck our classroom was located, we reached our class. We had high expectations for our teacher, having read reviews on the glorious ratemyprofessors.com. These did NOT disappoint. I have never been so excited for math in my life. As we were going through the syllabus, Stacy and I were literally smiling after every section. Glorious.

AFTER THIS, my friends, I WORKED OUT. ON THE VERY FIRST DAY OF CLASSES. Oh, it was a much needed workout. There's nothing like a long, endorphin releasing, sweat inducing run to clear the mind. Except now my body aches, because I had the mind set that I could run as far as I used to, and still be just fine. False. I need to start slower.

Tomorrow starts at 9 am with my acting class and pushes along at quite a speedy pace until after 5 pm. I am so exhausted right now, but all I wish to do is write.

Oh! Okay, so yesterday I learned Hey, Soul Sister on the ukulele. The chord progression sounded curiously similar to I'm Yours. Yep. Same thing. So, I slowed Soul Sister down, mashed it with I'm Yours, and found out that it's been done before. It's kinda cool. I prefer the Soul Sister key, because the I'm Yours key just seems to take it down too low.

Today, we end with these kind words from the likes of William Shakespeare.

"You scullion! You rampallian! You fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe!" - Henry IV Part Two

Rad:This is for you, Adam. I get to play my french horn tomorrow. Also, the fact that when Will tries to pronounce Barack Obama, he says, "Rock a Llama." Wow, we're rad today.

Unrad: Burnt Bridges and tickled catastrophes

When Explained, I'm Nothing Serious

"Thou spleeny elf-skinned haggard!"

Let's take a moment to analyze this insult. Shakespeare begins his insult with the word "spleeny". This particularly caught my attention because I like spleen...the word and human organ. It's a bit of a love hate relationship. I love my spleen, yet I blame it for any pain occurring in my body. Sometimes my spleen is at fault for my headache. Anyway, "spleeny". This must mean 'man with multiple spleens'. I looked it up, and disappointment ensued. It means ill-tempered.

"Elf-skinned" Now, the word elf directs my imagination to pointy ears. This is not what little willy is referring to, however. He may be referring to rough, pale, or ugly skin. So says random internet people.

"Haggard" This word actually has a definition. How unusual, Willy. Haggard means, more or less, wild.

Therefore in contemporary English our Shakespeare insult of the day would go something like this, "You ugly, rough skinned, wild, ill-tempered man!" How dull.

SPLEENY!

Oops, that wasn't supposed to take that long. Good thing we didn't analyze yesterdays.

(This next section will be terribly uninteresting to most, sorry :[ )

Okay, so I'll officially hit my first rough patch with having a mac rather than a PC.

Remember that phase of my life when I was developing some serious graphic designer dreams in my future? Of course you don't, I told like two people about it. Pre-teens didn't do this sort of thing. I started experimenting in graphic design about 7th grade. This lasted till sophomore year in high school when I started looking at colleges for it and realized graphic designers are easily self taught, and you can often get your degree in a two year tech school. Not my style. Therefore, I chose to major in something much more stable. English. :]

Anywho, it was still always going to be my minor, until I walked into orientation and walked out a double major. (I STILL don't remember how this happened. I think they slipped something in my... something.)

However, I still think about it a lot and I miss having my photoshop to create and play with.

The program I got years ago for my PC was Coral Paint Shop Pro XI, because Adobe Photoshop was just WAY too expensive, and still is. Plus, upgrades are frequent, so instead of spending over half a thousand dollars on Photoshop in 7th grade, I decided I'd wait.

It was lovely. I can't put it on my mac though. Nothing Paint Shop Pro is mac compatible. So, now I'm finally seriously looking into Adobe Photoshop. I can't just mooch of of someone else's, because everyone I know that owns it has the PC version. For a while, I thought the cheapest (non-illegal) route was via a non-profit organization ($330 rather than $1000), but the CS4 Adobe Photoshop Extended Student Edition (which is the best CS4 version) for students enrolled in a credited university is only $200 rather than $1000.

Spleeny buckets! If I get the job I applied for this semester, I'm buying this asap. The thought of finally owning adobe photoshop makes my insides giddy.

So, in all actuality this isn't a Mac downfall. It's a, "Thanks, Mac for finally forcing me to purchase what I've wanted for 7 years." Well, here's to a Mac win, once again. Thanks, Justin Long.

My Nashvillian brotha and sista are coming up tomorrow. I haven't seen Autumn since Hank and I flew to Nashville for spring break. Since they are with us the least, this means the whole crew is coming to Manty tomorrow night. All ten of us will be together. This last happened a year ago on the cruise (Not even, because Andy hadn't been born). No one's even in China anymore, and it STILL doesn't happen often. Therefore, I'm quite excited for this reunion of sorts.

This is probably my last blog before I go back. Then I will update you on my second semester shenanigans. Here's to two more days of soda, bubblers, family, high school friends, and Starbucks.

Rad: Looking at cruise pictures from this time a year ago and finding these jems. We're under 21, Bahama protection, gorgeous San Juan.

Unrad: "There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me."

Oh, also. I'm covering Charlie Chaplin by Katie Herzig.Thanks. :]

Also also, this double space thing is upsetting my insides. Blargh, blogger and your stupid html formatting. I cannot fix you easily.

Thou Art as Fat as Butter.

"[Thou] leathern-jerkin, crystal-button,

knot-pated, agatering, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,

smooth-tongue, Spanish pouch!" -Henry IV Part I

I hearby declare the month of January for this blog "Shakepeare Has Better Insults Than You" month. I enjoy a well worded diss from the likes of William Shakespeare. Goodness knows, there are plenty of them. If you were to be handed a list of them, one may easily think the man had a bit of an anger management problem due to the sheer volume of insults. William, however, knew how to dish it out in style. I would be honored to be friends with such a temper.

Ok, now I mustache you a question. This way all you sneaky little readers can comment now. Because I know you're out there. I have proof. You thought wearing sneakers was enough, but nothing gets past me! I have yellow drinking objects! (The last two sentences are inside jokes courtesy of a beloved video on how to catch a ninja. I apologize for your lack of understanding, I just couldn't resist making a select few readers chuckle.)

Okay. My question(s) are as follows:

1. Do you zip your pants before you button, or button before you zip?

2. If you were drowning, would your mouth be open or closed?

3. What song should I cover on my Luke the Uke?

a. Charlie Chaplin

b. Coin Laundry

c. Grey or Blue

d. You and I

e. Insert Suggestion Here

I do have quite a bias towards this last question, but I'll see what you intelligent people think. This is also a sneaky way of me getting you to listen to more songs that I enjoy. Tehehe.

Today on my way to visit the Stacinator, I was reminded of a revelation I had on my (record speed) drive to the wedding a few weeks ago. I realized that when I drive and listen to the radio, I turn it up when a song I especially believe is my jam comes on. Well, of course. Lots of people do this. Then, when my next hip swooshin' jam comes on, I turn it up again. After three or four of these head bobbin' tunes, I start to realize a strange prevalent throb in my head. This, my friends, is because after I turn the volume up for one of my jams, I don't turn it back down before again turning it up for my next jam. Hence, the volume gets unnecessarily out of control. There is no need for this. I can enjoy and even swoosh my hips to a song delivered at a much softer decibel. Does anyone ever find themselves doing this?

Uff. There are always pictures I want to post that have nothing to do with lyrics I want to post that have nothing to do with what I want to talk about it my blog. Is this okay? Are you okay with a photo that has nothing to do with lyrics that have nothing to do with my blog? Oh look! Another question. (See? I tried to relate the irrevent witty picture with something in my blog. Hence the awful transitions about mustaching questions. Blargh)

Rad: I splurged on O.P.I. today, and it's my mommy's birfdai. :]

Unrad: Sickness

Did Shakespeare have a mustache ever? Probably. There, even more picture/blog relevance for you.