"She's got it all worked out..."

She's got it all worked out in her mind
And you're part of the plan
And you don't have the final word

She's got a long head start on your brain
And your heart is afraid
And you don't get to say you're thinking

Come on make it easy now
Come on make it easy on us all
Come on make it easy now or tears may fall

She's got it all worked out I'm afraid
And your time is arranged
And it's strange but you're feeling fine

She's got it all worked out I'm afraid
And your life is arranged
And it's strange but you're feeling fine


- Semisonic

Penny Lane

Today was a snow day, and it was very dull. Just like life on Penny Lane... normal and "very strange". It's also cold. I dislike snowish stuff.

Interview Questions

[Intro] Denise Jones, dance team coach, private dance instructor

1. How long have you lived in Manchester?
2. How long have you been in business here?
3. What reasons made you decide to open a dance studio here as opposed to somewhere else?
4. How has the dance business changed over the years?
5. I know there are many students that you have watched change over the years. How would you describe your relationships with those students?
6. How does coaching the Dance Team differ from giving dance lessons?
7. What sort of qualification did you need to become a dance instructor?
8. How did you acquire that certification?
9. What obstacles have you encountered regarding your business - enrollment, publicity, facilities?
10. What types of dance do you teach?
11. How do these types of dance differ, to teach or to learn?
12. Which sort of dance would you reccommend a high-school aged beginner start with?
13. What reasons have you heard as to why people take dance lessons?
14. Why did you decide to teach dance as opposed to anything else?
15. What other jobs have you held?
16. What is te best part, in your opinion about your job?
17. What is your favourite type of dance, either to perform or teach?
18. What is the most popular type of dance among your students?
19. What do you call your job; what title do you have?
20. Can you describe your job for us?
21. Did you attend college, and, if so, where?
22. How was your college experience?
23. I konw you're involved with the Pass the Hat Players. How exactly are you involved?
24. How is Pass the Hat similar and different from dance instruction - drama, expression?
25. Can you describe the history of the Pass the Hat company?
26. What goals do you have for the future of your business?
27. What goals do you have for the Pass the Hat company?
28. Have any of your students pursued further careers in dance, and if so, what sorts of careers?
29. Have you noticed differences in the attitudes of school-aged students versus adult students, and if so, what are they?

PUT IN ORDER!
- Conclusion! Muha!

Yich.

Sometimes, America's Funniest Home Videos aren't that funny.
The sunrise always burns my eyes.
My feet are incredibly cold.
I see your face and it's desperately kind.
Wherefore art thou, Jim?
That's how the high powers took my daddy from me.
The Wall is pretty much the best movie ever.
There is no debate, no debate, no debate.
You belong with me, not swallowed in the sea.
I controlled myself yesterday, mostly.
Where are you?
I realized that I really should be not so much of a bitch.
Oh, poor Stick Boy and Match Girl.
Is there any point in ever having children?
Dare I say it?
No.

Books to read from Amy

All right, this entry is here strictly for my own benefit. My friend Amy has reccommended these books to me, and I posted them here so I don't have them on a list that I lose. Thankee much, guys! I'm, er, in the high school library just now, looking for a prose piece to read in front of the class.

Crusader by Edward Bloor
Story Time by Edward Bloor
the Salmon of Doubt by Douglas Adams
the Wish List by Eoin Colfer
Born Confused by Tanuja Desai Hider
Firebirds (edited by Sharyn November)
Gothic! (edited by Deborah Noyes)
Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve (series)

Oh, music...

I love band. I love to play my instruments, to make music with a group of good friends. I love to listen to it, too... I love to close my eyes and breathe in the music, to make it flow in my bloodstream... I understand the glory of guitar... I'm bound by only four strings to this world (hey, I'd say six, but I'm a bass player, and I like classic things... don't need no fancy 5-string...)

For today, the song "Acrobat" by U2.

Don't believe what you hearDon't believe what you seeIf you just close your eyesYou can feel the enemyWhen I first met you girlYou had fire in your soulWhat happened your face of melting in snow?Now it looks like thisAnd you can swallowOr you can spitYou can throw it upOr choke on itAnd you can dreamSo dream out loudYou know that your time is coming 'roundSo don't let the bastards grind you downNo, nothing makes senseNothing seems to fitI know you'd hit outIf you only knew who to hitAnd I'd join the movementIf there was one I could believe inYeah I'd break bread and wineIf there was a church I could receive in'Cause I need it nowTo take the cupTo fill it upTo drink it slowI can't let you goI must be an acrobatTo talk like thisAnd act like thatAnd you can dreamSo dream out loudAnd don't let the bastards grind you downOh, it hurts babyWhat are we going to do? Now it's all been saidNo new ideas in the house and every book has been readAnd I must be an acrobatTo talk like thisAnd act like thatAnd you can dreamSo dream out loudAnd you can findYour own way outAnd you can buildAnd I can willAnd you can callI can't wait untilYou can stashAnd you can seizeResponsibilitiesAnd I can loveAnd I can loveAnd I know that the tide is turning 'roundSo don't let the bastards grind you down

A bit from my Dad

"Johnny Cash is the Bob Marley of country." - My Dad.

"I'm an atheist with some Buddhist values." - Me

"Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery. None but ourselves can free our minds." - Bob Marley

"When the power of love overcomes the love of power, then the world shall know peace." - Jimi Hendrix

A New Approach

Allright. I'm on Myspace and will soon be on Elftown, so here I'm just going to write whatever comes in my head.

Guh, slow computer. Death.
Sebby, sebby, sebby, sebby, sebbity, sebbity-HAR.
America doesn't have a princess; Ciara is a whore. And she can't sing. And she has webbed fingers.
Garg, I love music.
"Soon forgotten, but never parted."
SKINDRED!
Shadows in morgues
los aristogatos!
why does my heart cry/feelings i can't hide/you're free to leave me but just don't decieve me/and please believe me when i say i love you...
brrrrrrrrrricki!
sting like a scorpion/buzz like a bee
WHY is EVERYONE horny all the time?
EEEEDDDDGGGGAAAARRRR AAAALLLLLLLLEEEENNNN PPPPOOOOEEEE!!!!
nobody gets out alive
I got a little tired of never being calledYeah I got a little sick of always being stalledAnd that is why I said that "we should just be friends.Go on, baby, get on home; this is where it ends".
And to tell you the truth, I got tired of the lies,And never knowing what to do to get us to surviveThanks for finally getting me to open up my eyesI don't think you're worth it and that's really no surprise.
You said I broke your heart, and maybe that was trueHow come, though, you never ever told me, "I love you"? It was shit like that which made me call and tell you we were throughSeems to me that was the practical thing to do
And to tell you the truth, I got tired of the lies,And never knowing what to do to get us to surviveThanks for finally getting me to open up my eyesI don't think you're worth it and that's really no surprise.
Now a year has gone and you've written me to sayThat you miss me? need me? kiss me? thought of me todayYou've met my new boyfriend, now you realise it's trueThat I never ever would have run away with you
And to tell you the truth, it's really no surpriseThere never really was a way to get us to surviveNow today I'm really glad I opened up my eyesI couldn't make you worth it and that's really no surprise.

Going now, hope that was interesting.

"Tears stream down your face..."

Listened to Coldplay this morning (three songs, "Fix You", "Swallowed in the Sea", and "Kingdom Come"), then Barenaked Ladies "Gordon" in the shower, then Aerosmith was my cleaning music.

Nothing has happened recently that hasn't been posted elsewhere... gourds, I'm tired... and confused... and I miss people... and I love people... and if it wasn't for him I'd probably be quite content to just fall peacefully asleep and wake up in a parallel dimension.

Love is the strangest thing...

*insert title here* Now what would make you think that? Because when I look at him, when I emotionally remove myself and I look at him, I can see why people are surprised I'm dating him. But when I think about him, consider his quirks and his charms, his moods and his comments, I really do like him. I like him so much I could just fall over dead and die happy.

Craziness. But I like it.

Nitty-Gritty (new song)

Baby I love how you make me feel
Baby I love how you've helped me heal
When you're around I feel so surreal
Baby I love all your sex appeal

Let's ride on a camel into the city
You're the only one that makes me feel pretty
That's why I wrote you this little ditty
So let's get down to the nitty-gritty

Baby I love how you're into me
Baby I love how you go crazy
When your around I'm not so lazy
Baby I love all the you I see

Let's ride on a camel into the city
You're the only one that makes me feel pretty
That's why it's only you that makes me this giddy
Come on, let's get down to the nitty-gritty

Baby I love, oh, the taste of you
Baby I love all the things you do
When you're around I'm always askew
Baby all I need a little of you

And I'm riding on a camel into the city
With you cos you always make me feel pretty
That's why I wrote you this little ditty
So we could get down to the nitty-gritty

English Gardens

I'm sitting in my basement. I'd rather be sitting in an English garden, like in 'I Am the Walrus' by the Beatles, but here I am, stuck in the basement. Dad turned the lights off and closed the door, so I'm rather trapped down here. Erlack.

"They can't ever save us now. "

Poor innocent Andy, corrupted by my tastes in music. Kill Hannah and Operation Ivy. He had pretty good taste on his own, I must say, Aerosmith and All-American Rejects, etc. And Eminem, though whether that is good taste or simply an odd thing I like has yet to be determined.

"Singing 'Hare Krishna!' man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe"

New bass tabs:
Castaway - Green Day
Question! - System of a Down
Shine On You Crazy Diamond - Pink Floyd
Have A Cigar - Pink Floyd
Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

If you like good music - prog rock - and don't listen to Pink Floyd, you're silly. "Momentary Lapse of Reason" is an AWESOME album. Effing A.

All apologies

I would just like to extend my apologies to one of my best friends for anything I have done to offend her. I would also like to apologize that I haven't the courage to apologize to her in person or on the phone.

"Does it seem like all your memories fade? We soak up knowledge to fill the space, and still my answer remains 'I don't know'" --Green Day

Thievery and Friendship

Hmmkay. So. If someone steals something very important to you, should you still consider them your friend? Especially if then they damage your property before giving it to someone to give back to you? Carrie, you've done this to me twice, with the notebook and more recently my hat. I don't know how long it can go on before I decide to care enough to take my dignity back, as well.

School in two days. Erlack.

The Return

I'M BACK FROM CANADA!

Man's Chest Hair - I missed you! You still smell funny and it gets dark really early here! Er!
There is a green glass goblet on my desk and I don't know where it came from. My mum isn't here, and my brother seems to have vanished. Wait, everyone's asleep... makes sense, eh? I think I'll post my trip blog on here as soon as it's finished... I can put up whatever now, get a start, eh? EH? Can you tell I've been to Canada?

Food and Trombones

7-27-05
4:20 p.m.

Listening to the album “Guero” by Beck with some batteries pilfered from K8. She’s from Colorado, also a trombonist and vegetarian. Her trombone is very old and silver; the back of the bell, instead of having plumbing that makes a 90-degree angle, is set on the diagonal, and there is a complicated design including a faun with panpipes engraved on the bell. The entire trombone is silver. K8’s hair is blondish with blue streaks and short in such a way that it brings a pixie to mind. She’s a lot of fun.
Also there is Kaylee. She is from Manitoba and has introduced me to ketchup-flavoured potato chips and flavoured Corn Crunch. It’s great! I have wrappers. She just had me try an Eat-More bar, marketed as the “original dark toffee peanut chew”. It’s made by Hershey, so I don’t understand why we don’t have them in the States. Also they have French on their wrappers as well as English, instead of the way we have it, with Spanish and English. I’m supposed to check out puff wheat cake as well. Hmm.
They have Big Boy restaurants up here, like in the book “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”. Totally awesome.
Dr. Hall is an awesome trombone teacher and is known to randomly burst into old English. He says to practice for three hours per day, but to rest for twenty minutes every twenty minutes we play. So we rehearsed for a few minutes on “Circus Suite” and then tramped around the hut for a bit discussing flora and climate.
Speaking of the huts, I want to live in one. Ten-by-ten hut with a door and three windows, a bamboo mat to sleep on in one corner, a camp stove in another corner, cans of food on the bare walls, tea things in a picnic basket. I’d call it a “back-to-basics” routine, but I envision a laptop in this as well.
Gotta go, supper, be back later.

Lunchtime and Songs

7-27-05
11:50 a.m.

Mmkay, it’s raining like mad! It’s beautiful! Hee, anyway, rehearsal was pretty normal; we had to get up and dance in turns to “Puszta” so we could feel the tempo changes. It was so cool! Methinks I finally have “Circus Suite, Bareback Riders” figured out. Huzzah. We need to play “Moreton Bay” in regular band at home because it’s so beautiful.
People have asked me what I want to be when I grow up. I say that I want to be a writer and philosopher. Brigette was very kind, in my opinion without realizing it, by saying she thought I already was both. Lunchtime, cheers.

Second Day

7-26-05
10:30 p.m.?

Second day of camp. It’s almost lights-out, so I’ll write quickly. Basically there was a dance tonight, and we hung out for a bit. I introduced myself to the kid who was wearing the Led Zeppelin shirt the other day, because today he was wearing an OpIV shirt. Turns out he listens to reggae, metal, classic, and punk – lots like me, only he’s a dude and named Evan and from Bismarck, ND. He plays bass, too.
The nasty screeing noise last night turns out to not have been pipes, as suspected, but the wind under the door. Blocking the gap with a towel should improve the temperature and eliminate the wind noise.
I’ve named K8 “Roller-Skate Kate” like the John Entwhistle song. Then a male friend of hers whose name I don’t know has become “Mr. Roller-Skate” so I can call him something I’ll remember. This dude plays percussion. Victoria – she’s a t’bone – is also called University because some of our music comes from the University of Victoria, where Dr. King teaches.
Lights out is soon. It’s a huge pain to walk to the nurse for meds all the time. Lights out!

Lights Out

7-25-05
10:45 p.m.
It’s been classes, classes, classes since breakfast. We woke up at 6:30 a.m. to shower. Breakfast for me was an omelette (complete with Government cheese!). At 8:30 was rehearsal at the Masonic Auditorium down the road. BIG building. Dr. Gerald King is our conductor. He’s an average-height man with a fringe of bleach-white hair around his chrome dome. He’s from BC and seems okay, like he makes jokes and stuff. First rehearsal goes until 9:30. My water opened in my bag; my notebook and sweatshirt were all WET – it was cold in the morning. One of my cameras got waterlogged and was destroyed, dang it. At 9:40 was a sectional, but the lights just went out. Will finish tomorrow.

Barenaked in the Morning

7-24-05
8:29 p.m.

Leaving Grand Forks, ND, going someplace called Rugby. It can’t be all bad with a name like that. There was a problem with our room at Days Inn, so we had to switch to a smoking room. I walked in, stopped breathing, and barely got to my inhaler in time. To clear my lungs, Molly and I watched the sun set. The cloud formation was incredible, and the sunlight splayed out like golden angel’s song over the tops of them. We went back to the room (puff, puff on inhaler) and had a shaving party in the tiny, dirty bathroom. We went to sleep a little later, Molly and I on one bed, Joanie (Molly’s mum) and Luann (sp? Molly’s aunt) on the other bed, and Lindz and Heather (Molly’s sisters) on the floor. Woke up this morning, showered, ate the free continental breakfast, and left. I’m boycotting Days Inns, now.
The clouds this morning are like whisps of angel hair. It amuses me to picture cherubim and seraphim in a salon, chatting away to their stylists.
“Maroon” by the Barenaked Ladies proves very appropriate to this trip. Lindz has graciously provided me with new batteries. I’m hoping these last. Molly’s listening to AC/DC. I wonder how that suits this glorious morning.
Unused as I am to morning light, I find that it is very pretty. It seems sort of paler, more delicate, than the afternoon daylight I cavort in. “Falling for the First Time” really is a good song, perfect for watching dust blow over fields, for watching shadows cast by this oddly warm pale light. As the song changes to “Conventioneers”, I think two things: that Jim Creeggan is my favourite living bass player, and that Steven Page is one of those lucky people who could soothe a squalling baby just by singing to them.

Watches and Pink Floyd

7-24-05
6:00 p.m.?

I’m starting to wish I’d brought a watch. We’ve had auditions, and I did terribly. Eurgh! Mollz and I are in the same dorm, though, and might be able to trade bunks so we’re next to one another. A lot of people are Canadian. K8, another trombonist, is from Colorado, in the mountains. Memo to self: Get bass tabs for “Waiting for the Worms” by Pink Floyd.

Dunseith, Freddy Mercury, and Death

7-24-05
1:16 p.m.

Dunseith, ND, is pretty much nothing. It has charms, though. We stopped at a truck stop for a restroom break and lunch. The bathrooms were surprisingly good-smelling and had automatic paper towel dispensers that you waved at, and they spit out just the right amount of paper towel. However, the women’s restroom had two toilets, but no stalls; how bizarre. We’re fifteen miles from the Peace Garden. For lunch I had French fries with VINEGAR! Complete YUM! I about died of ecstasy. My BnL gave way to the Killers, who gave way to Queen.
There’s water all over the place here, just standing and being unbelievably blue. Cattails grow in the shoulders on the sides of the road. Birds play in roadside ponds. The water really is beautiful.
There’s something about Freddy Mercury that makes me smile. Maybe it’s the fact that he sang so well, or that he had the courage to be so rampant about his sexuality. I love Queen in a big way, but it’s times like this, when I think about people like Freddy Mercury, that I wonder if anyone loved him enough to be with him when he died. Following that I start to contemplate my own death. I think just now that I want to be buried in North Dakota, just because we passed a cemetery that was ever so pretty.
Thinking about Freddy Mercury also puts me in mind of homosexuality in general. Two kids tease each other, calling each other “poop-brain”, “diaper-head”, and “gay”. It hurts. I might not be completely gay, but the only reason for this is because I’m attracted to personalities, not looks, so it holds nothing with me what set of parts you have in your pants. But it rankles with me still because of my gay friends. It also rankles with me when you get girls who are all like, “Hey, guys! Omigod! Guess what? We’re lesbians! Isn’t that hot?” Followed by mad giggling. It’s not, though, or it shouldn’t be. Because a real lesbian would ignore guys, at least sexually.
We’re half a mile from camp.

Langdon and Hannah

7-24-05
10:54 a.m.

Just now we’re in Langdon, ND. On the way here, we passed bright yellow fields we reckoned were mustard, and some smoky blue ones that we didn’t recognize. [Note: it was later found out that the yellow fields are canola or rapeseed, and the blue ones are flax.] Langdon had some very nice houses, one painted bright green with yellow and purple accents that was VERY PRETTY. There was an intriguing tree someone had assembled from pots of purple flowers.
Matchbox Twenty’s “Yourself or Someone Like You” replaced “Maroon”, but now I’m listening to BnL’s “Born on a Pirate Ship”. The farm fields don’t have fences around them. I wonder what that means.
Driving and facing west, there are no clouds in the sky. This is the sort of light, now, that I’m used to, so the fields glare emerald, topaz, and sapphire. The water reflects the sky unflinchingly. I wonder how these fields look in the morning light. Never have I seen water so blue; we just passed another lake.
There’s a town called Hannah nineteen miles form the sign we just passed. I want a picture of myself next to that sign.
It seems that people around here keep bees, as well. I think that would be crazy cool. Of course, I’d probably be scared to death, but oh well. I mean, people terrify me, and I put up with them.
Another lake. “Same Thing” by the BnL might be the perfect song for this drive. A pretty song to accompany all this pretty scenery. I turn the volume up to drown out Lindz and Heather. They are some of the people that scare me, but they’re far better than some I could mention.

On Location

7-23-05
8:04 p.m.

The sky is clearer now, and the blue is breathtaking. Lindz took a picture of another billboard, this one saying “Be Polite”. I like those billboards. The speed limit is 75 miles per hour, which I find both crazy and exhilarating. We are about twenty minutes from Grand Forks.
[In this bit, I wrote about something very, very personal that I don’t feel comfortable posting online involving someone I know I love. You see, I don’t know exactly what sort of love I feel for this person, and I was getting frustrated.] Why don’t I KNOW?
Fourteen miles to Grand Forks, something like 164 miles to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. If I were not attending to other business, it would be conceivable to drive to Winnipeg tonight. I think that’s crazy. Distance is insane. It’s also crazy that I woke up in Iowa, and I’ll be going to sleep in North Dakota.
We just passed another billboard, “Be Kind”.
Seven miles now until cable TV, batteries for my poor CD player, and a nice shower. Good. I need to wash my face; you could probably burn a lamp with the oil on my skin.
I want to buy a field and restore it to prairie. Or maybe a patch of woods with a nice glade in the middle, where I can sit and write and talk to myself if I need to.
Across the way is another field full of houses. I can’t stand those houses, all so similar. When I “grow up”, I want a geothermally powered adobe house in Canada somewhere. I want it to be empty except for some bamboo mats, tea things, a camp stove, and me. That’d be nice.
We’re in Grand Forks.

Dreams plus John and Yoko

7-23-05
7:10 p.m.

Just ran out of batteries for my CD player. Also just saw a street sign in the middle of a field. Highly amusing.
We’re spending the night in Grand Forks, North Dakota. I wonder what it’s like to live in North Dakota; I guess I will find out. I will be in Canada at this time tomorrow. Weird thought.
I’ve been thinking about [anonymous] a lot lately. What I can’t figure out is why. I haven’t even seen him in, like, a year. So why the dreams? I dream [his sister] is off somewhere with her [boyfriend], and [he] and I walk onto their front porch; each of us has a glass of ice water. We sit on their deck furniture and sip our waters for awhile in silence, until I turn to him and ask if he’s ever been kissed. He says no, and I tell him that that’s good, because you should love the first person you kiss. He says nothing. Another sip of water, and we begin a conversation regarding human fear of emotion and being afraid to tell someone you love them. You shouldn’t be afraid of this, I say, because if they can’t deal with it then they’re not worth the trouble. I set down my water glass, and the next thing I know, he’s kissing me. No, kissing is the wrong word; it’s more like snogging. I don’t know if I understand – or want to understand – this dream.
We crossed the border into North Dakota at 7:19 p.m. I wrote as we traveled, and Lindsey (a.k.a. Lindz, Molly’s 13-year-old sister) took a picture of a billboard that said nothing but “Be Nice.” A few more billboards like that, and maybe the world would be a slightly better place, like when John and Yoko did the “Happy X-Mas” billboards. I miss you, John.

Supper and Flashbacks

7-23-05
5:30 p.m.

Just attended mass at Our Lady of Victory church. Lucky for me it was a Catholic church, or I would have been even more lost. I was baptized Catholic, you see, though I’ve never had a First Communion. I would have, but by the age of six I had declared myself an atheist (though I did not then know the word).

~FLASHBACK~

I was a “tomboy” and did not like dressing up to go to church. One day at church I got all huffy and asked the priest, wouldn’t Jesus forgive you for not dressing up? The priest gave me a reply involving “showing your best face to God”. Thinking to myself that God would see every face you have, I vowed to myself and my parents that I would never attend church service with a congregation who wore a Sunday best. So I go in body when it’s necessary, but in spirit I sit and ponder things instead of paying attention to any homily or verse. I believe and ghosts and reincarnation, but all the hype about God has led me away from “Him”. There’s my feminist as well; I will never allow a male to dominate me.

We ate supper at Perkins, and as usual the food sits uneasily in my stomach. It was, however, a narrow escape from chicken-abusing KFC. It was Molly who spoke up and saved me.
Verve Pipe has given way to the Jimi Hendrix Experience. I’m currently listening to “Stone Free”. I really love Hendrix’s story, how he rose to Guitar God-dom from poverty. I love how Hendrix was who he wanted to be, no one else. I love to read what my other guitar-playing idols – Pete Townshend, John Lennon, Eric Clapton – had to say about him. I hope that someday, people that other people respect will be complimentary of my work.
I’ll be in North Dakota by 9 p.m.

A Second Song

7-23-05
2:53 p.m.

The Verve Pipe – Photograph

If you want, beautiful, pitiful, have me in a picture
And if you want, make me dance
Throw me round, spin upon your finger

Blind labours the blind
And I am unwilling to uncover my eyes

If there’s a crease in my face over time
Rifle through, find a very nice one
There’s plenty more where that came from

Words, frozen, will thaw when I am wasted
I am better shut up, and a frame is quite confining
Hang me up…hang me up

I’m in the photograph

When I’m alone and the world is a fist, I am weightless
A universe, gravitate, orchestrate, I am fearless

And spin, the sky surrounding free from all the picture perfect
And spin, the sky surrounding larger than life

Meanwhile, I’m in the photograph

Golf courses and Hell

7-23-05
2:25 p.m.

A third stop. Again, I don’t know the name of the town, but near it was a road I liked called Opportunity Drive. In essence, the Road to Opportunity. At CD change, I took out AFI’s “Sing the Sorrow” album and replaced it with the Verve Pipe’s “Villains”.
We are passing a silo covered in ivy, and I think that it has beauty. The propeller on a boat on a trailer is spinning. Here’s a mobile home with Saskatchewan license plates, and I am reminded of how close I am getting to Canada. A semi from Ontario, now. The song “Villains” by the Verve Pipe mercifully drowns out Shania Twain. “Villains” proves an appropriate anthem for this stretch of road as we pass the exit for St. Joseph, Minnesota.
The trees sense rain; you can tell by the leaves. Something is coming for sure, as the sky is angry and overcast. Even the interstate looks as though it is preparing for rain. I wish it would storm, because nothing is so pleasant as wet hottop with “Reverend Girl” playing to keep you company. Then again, rain might make for in increase in tension here in the van.
We pass a town called Avon and a factory outlet cheese store. Another cemetery. Thoughts of my own mortality swarm my mind, and I find myself checking my seatbelt. The track changes on my CD, and in the Verve Pipe’s silence I hear Shania Twain again. This is followed by a brief wondering: have I died and gone to Hell like my mum’s side of the family has told me I will? But no, “Cup of Tea” starts, and it turns out that knees sore from sitting and a touch of loving writer’s cramp are indeed my reality.
I see fields full of houses, and the houses are all the same. Not exactly so, but their slight differences lie in siding colour and garage placement. I am lost in confusion when I try to think why anyone would want such a house. Certainly the nearby eighteen-hole golf course cannot be that big of a selling point. However, I am saved by “Myself” and the countryside.

Rocky Horror and Minnesota

7-23-05
12:32 p.m.

We just made a stop in a town. We are in Minnesota now, and I am listening to “Dammit Janet” from the Rocky Horror Picture Show sound track. We passed a town called Hope a ways back. It was lovely; there was a sign pointing up the exit to Hope. Yep, folks, Hope’s just up thattaway.
I told someone last night that I loved him, and I’m pondering now whether or not I told him the truth.
The sun lost. It’s completely overcast now. Clouds brood over the thick emerald fields, and in this aspect Minnesota and Iowa are identical. We are now 37 miles from Minneapolis. Less now. Less now. Time and distance are one, here on the interstate.
Signs, blue for food and gas, green for New Prague and Exit 69. Everything is coloured, any colour you like. I wonder if, secretly, the colours people pick for their automobiles are coded. I wonder if all people who drive grey minivans are culture-starved kids who listen to “Sweet Transvestite” while writing travel journals and tell people they love them even if they’re unsure how.
A smiley face raised its shades and winked at me from the side of an outbuilding. Gravel roads have rustic charm, indeed. There’s something about listening to Tim Curry while driving through the countryside. Two new towns, one of which is Elko. The speed limit is 70 miles per hour. I wonder if, in Canada, the speed signs display in kilometres per hour. That’d make sense, I guess, but blimey. Did you know that Minnesota has a Turkey Council? There was a billboard.
In the unlikely event I get married, the wedding march-thing will have to be played on electric guitar like in “Charles Atlas (Reprise)”.

The Song for New Hampton

7-23-05
9:52 a.m.
New Hampton, IA

Coldplay – The Scientist

Come up to meet you
Tell you I’m sorry
You don’t know how lovely you are

I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh, let’s go back to the start

Running in circles
Calling tails
Heads on a science apart

Nobody said it was easy
It’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start

I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart

Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Tell me you love me
Come back to haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start

Running in circles
Chasing tails
Coming back as we are

Nobody said it was easy
Oh it’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I’m going back to the start

Plainfield and Floyd

7-23-05
9:32 a.m.

There is an indescribable beauty today. I am on the interstate with Molly, Molly’s mum, Molly’s aunt, and Molly’s sisters. To the west it is overcast, but to the east the clouds all look like they’ve been sucked up by a vacuum cleaner… but I suppose that’s not a pretty enough image. They look more like they’ve been summoned upward by the will of the cherubim, so they’re all slanted toward the sun. The sun, while seeming smaller and paler than is typical, gives me warmth and light by which to write.
We are still in Iowa. The daylight is not full, but instead casts a thin beautiful luminescence over the fields of beans and corn. From the hilltops it seems as thought these fields, cast in light of chilling gorgeousity, go on forever. They look as though one could reach out, touch them, and be forced to marvel at their softness.
We pass a town called Plainfield that is tiny. Its visible components are one miniature water tower, a cemetery, a baseball diamond, and a field for American football. Typical Iowan small town. It takes us about two seconds to pass Plainfield, and we have returned to the middle of nowhere. The landscape is dotted with old white houses, huge red barns, and tall blue Harvestore silos. I think for the first time of home, because there by my computer I have a lamp shaped like a Harvestore silo.
Some people crave familiarity. I have never counted myself among those people. But I might be one.
Nashua is bigger than Plainfield, but still discernable over the treetops are the lights of the ball diamond. We are in Floyd county, and the instant my Coldplay CD finishes, I’ll listen to some Pink Floyd to celebrate.

Location

Righto, chaps! I'll be in Canada for the next week. Don't worry, the Sebhar pearls of wisdom will still come... I'll be journaling, however, so they'll be delayed. Good bye, all! Keep jammin' on the low end and I'll see you on the flipside!

Before Wartburg

7-22-05
4:32 p.m.

Riding in the car with Alexa’s mum and dad, Mia and Dave. Scenery speeds by like it’s got to get somewhere: power lines, fences, water towers, flora. We’re on our way to the concert put on by Wartburg College’s summer jazz band. Alexa plays saxomophone. Dan-ness is at Wartburg as well.
They caught two of the terrorists involved in the 7-7-05 subway and bus bombings. I haven’t heard from London Dan since these aforementioned bombings, and there were more the other day. I think I’ve heard from all my other British friends, though.
Some people have described roads as laying out before them like ribbons. I think that, while a nice simile, this is silly. Roads are more like tour guides; some slow, some fast, some loud, some quiet, always taking you somewhere or showing you something. The baseball field on your left, that’s the finest field this side of the Volga River, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is Our Church of the Virgin Mary.
Skies are crazy. People say the sky is blue, but I know different. I have seen red skies, purple skies, grey skies like goose feathers and skies of fiery orange. No wonder people used to believe in magic. The wonder is that we stopped believing.
Maybe that’s why people do “bad” things. They’ve stopped believing in magic because they can’t see the sky. It makes me worry about the world. What will become of those born in the generations that will never see the sky?

What is a ghetto booty?

I don't understand the concept of ghetto booties.

I like talking to people, and I hope I can go to the concert tomorrow.

New favourite movie: Pink Floyd's The Wall

Older

If this is what getting older is, I'm just going to stop. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. And I'm only fifteen...imagine! My midlife crisis will probably occur around twenty. Erlack.

Songs for today: "Highway Chile" by Jimi Hendrix, "Gasoline" by Seether, "Brand New Colony" by the Postal Service, "Asleep" by the Smiths, "The Freshmen" by the Verve Pipe, and "This Song Has No Title" by Elton John

Patriotism

I'm so glad patriotism is popular. There used to be two American flags on my block: mine and my neighbours. Since 9-11, we've got about twenty. God Bless American Dollars. Little window stickers in the backs of cars, flagpoles, the little flags the kids were waving last night at the parade as they stuffed their faces with candy... it's all so magical (if you're a capitalist). The magnets ordering us to support our troops and the media quashing our viewpoints are SO patriotic it makes me want to...defocate, actually. Interesting how you buy that American flag to show your support of American troops and what we're really supporting is the Chinese or Japanese economy. Remember how you drove to the family gathering for Independence Day? Yeah, you drove your Hummer, your big urban assault vehicle, and they don't even have the courtesy to send you an e-mail... thanks for supporting Saudi Arabian Oil!

If you read this, it is most likely that you'll feel angry. And well you should. You might want to send me an angry message; if there's a comment box on this blog, feel free to use that or send me an email at amarcelon@hotmail.com . However, please refrain from profanity and foul language, and try to spell/capitalize/punctuate correctly or you'll be proving my point. Any emails will not be read if you don't specify in the subject what you're emailing about as I have an exclusive junk mail filter. Also, try to bear in mind that I'm a 15-year-old girl from the Midwest. Thanks.

There's no need to satisfy tonight.

This weekend was awesome! Dan came over from Glidden, which is 4 hours from where I live, and spent the weekend in my dining room. We went to the Jazz Fest in Iowa City, where I was of course flooded with memories of Summer Camp at the Blank Summer Institute last summer. The pedestrian mall where we all made observations for stories, the sidewalk with all the awesome stuff printed in it, the Record Collector... I love Iowa City. Watching the Dubuque fireworks from my uncle's sailboat with Dan was beautiful; as Deep Purple would say, smoke over water and fire in the sky. Dan seemed to enjoy Moondog Music in Dubuque; if you live in that area or are going to that area, go to Moondog. What a great place! Well, I've got about eight minutes left online at the library and I want to update www.modblog.com/sebhar , if you don't mind. Ta!

Things.

It's odd how things that happen to you can affect the way you think, the way you feel. Odd how a subtle alteration in a friend - an ex-boyfriend, for example - can change the way you look at people.

It's odd how thunderstorms can make you feel so exhilirated, so alive, and yet they can also kill you. I was in a thunderstorm last night, inside, and I still felt that I was getting struck by lightning.

It's odd how he could read this and have no idea I was talking about him. Dense, good-looking... *sigh*

mish.

You didn't have to say "That's not your art." You could have said, "Wow, that's cool, did you really make that?" I'd have told you yes or no.

Music, sweet music, I wish I could caress...
- Hendrix

Slowly walking down the hall faster than a cannonball...

When I was in my Tyler phase, I began a poem about him; I've finished it, months later. It has no metre, no rhyme, no real rhythm, but it is in fact a poem.

Do you listen to Oasis? I don't, terribly much, but I do like this song. Aah, songs Sebhar heard in the nineties on the radio. This is their song Champagne Supernova.

How many special people change?
How many lives are living strange?
Where were you while we were getting high?
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?

Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova in the sky

Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dreams, she never dies
Wipe that tear away now from your eye
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?

Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova

'Cuz we don't believe
That they're gonna get away from the summer
But you and I will never die
The world's still spinning around we don't know why
Why-why-why-why-i-i

How many special people change?
How many lives are living strange?
Where were you while we were getting high?
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky

Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova
'Cuz we don't believe
That they're gonna get away from the summer
But you and I will never die
The world's still spinning around we don't know why
Why-why-why-why-i-i

How many special people change?
How many lives are living strange?
Where were you while we were getting high?
We were getting high...

I'm in a very, very weird mood. Sort of tense. I think I might have a lot of pent-up aggression... maybe I should find a rug to beat out, eh?

Redemption.

"Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery. None but ourselves can free our minds."
- Bob Marley, "Redemption Song"

I've always wondered why people look strangely at me, just because my jeans aren't plastered to my thighs and going up my bum. I don't wear spaghetti straps or belly shirts, and the t-shirts I do wear aren't babydoll style. Why? they ask. Because I'm emancipating myself from mental slavery, I reply, then turn on my heel and walk away, leaving them dumbfounded. One of them got it, once, but only because I have a shirt which says that on it, with a good picture of Bob Marley on the front. People also think I'm strange because I even listen to Bob Marley. I ask, why not? He soothes, he relaxes, and you don't have to be on the Rasta scene to enjoy their music.

If you like reggae and don't listen to the Easy Star All-Stars, or if you like good music and Pink Floyd, I suggest you check out ESAS. They did a wonderful cover album of Dark Side of the Moon (Pink Floyd) called Dub Side of the Moon. It's beautiful, wonderful, and if you listen to both albums in rapid succession you find that the more recent pays meticulous attention to detail. It's well done, I highly reccommend it.

What do you do with a friend who is angry with you? One of my friends - I'll call her Elaine, because she got mad at me last time I used her name in a blog - is upset with me becuase... well, here's the whole story. Elaine is moving away to a little, distantish town, later this summer. Now, we're all going to miss her terribly; certain of us have been friends with her since she was three, she was my first friend when I moved here, etc. There's this guy, right, his name is... er... Harry. One of our friends turned 16 recently, and she had this great birthday party at her house. Elaine, Harry, and myself were all in attendance. Elaine and Harry ran off to play in the mud (erlack!) with another of our friends...er...Stephanie. The rest of us were inside, discussing things, and when Elaine, Harry, and Steph came back inside, the topic rolled around to Elaine's last birthday party here with us. I thought she'd plan something sensible, like have a smallish party like she's always had with us, and invite everyone else to her going-away party. But...gasp!... she said she had already planned to have her LAST BIRTHDAY PARTY with Harry. And now for the story of Harry... we were good chums with him last summer, hung out on his front porch eating smoothies and playing with his dog, right? Well yeah, school rolls around, and he's back off with the preppy whorish girls in their skimpy tanktops and short skirts (in the middle of winter, proving that they're all ice-queens to begin with). Left poor Elaine, who had a "thing" for him, to worship him from afar - eventually she got over it. But hark! For here 'tis, the next summer, the last summer, and she's going back to hanging out with him. The last friend we had move away, Harry forgot about her double-time, despite the fact that he hosted her going-away party and claimed never to forget her. She left, and he hasn't mentioned her since. Hmmm... Basically "Elaine", if you read this, I WANT YOU TO UNDERSTAND HOW I SEE IT. I'm not trying to offend you, or "Stephanie", since you two are great pals now, better than with those of us who dare to speak our minds.

...

Ever notice how playing the bass gives you very strange blisters?

Hmph.

The band list is completed. COMPLETED, I TELL YOU! All the bands I like, in alphabetical order.... yay! Eventually I hope to get it up on here, sometime... probably after I have my two favourite songs by each artist on the list as well.

I'm going to Canada for Band Camp! YESSSSAH! *falls over*

The book "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" is wonderful, and the entire world should read it. But first, if you haven't already, read "A Catcher in the Rye". Both are phantastic books, and I love them.

Mourn!

Mourn, ye mortals. Punk is dead. It's gone... it lives no more. Nor can I live without it.
- My MSN screen name

Righto. So. I'm in a discussion forum (actually not really, just the wiki on Elftown.com at a page called No Parking). Now, I'm a huge Green Day fan in addition to being a very open-minded person; I can understand if people don't agree with my views, if people don't like Green Day. But I cannot understand one who calls themself a punk who disagrees with the punkesque dogma. In essence, the way I've come to understand it through the classic gods of punk music like the Sex Pistols and the Dead Kennedys, punk means thinking for yourself. Direct quote (the song is Nazi Punks Fuck Off by DK). So you can't call Green Day's "American Idiot" album less punk than any of their other albums. In fact, more opinions, more calls to action, more desire to change the world, and more difference from current pop culture is captured in "Idiot". The fact that they did a rock opera in this time of emotionless, unfulfilling pop music is by itself a statement of their punkosity.

How can they laugh at my opinion and call themselves punk rockers? They defy the cause, the meaning, the founding dogma that the scene would have been founded on if indeed anyone had ever bothered to found it.

And yes, "punkosity" and "punkesque" are words.

>.> <.<

Right, fine. So I lied.

You're Bloody Well Right

Warning - If you're the sort of person who gets songs stuck in your head easily and likes to sing the song you have stuck in your head while in public, don't listen to Supertramp and take offense at strange looks people give you. I was at a graduation party today for my friend Brittney's sister and singing "Bloody Well Right" by Supertramp. In addition to feeling like a billboard (Squier by Fender shirt, Pink Floyd Dark Side Of The Moon cap, Paris Blues jeans... blargenflargle!) I was stared at by several people because I was walking around muttering "You're right, right, you're bloody well right..." to myself. Meep.

I'm so torn. I know I've got three-ish years left until I truly have to think about it, but the choice between U of Iowa and U of BC @ Vancouver is a titanic and difficult one. I know Iowa City to be a truly inspiring place with a wonderful Writer's Workshop, but I also want to familiarise myself with the "scene" and territory of Couver before I move there. Hm. Of course, I want to tour Europe with my friends, see Tuscany and Rome and Vienna and Hamburg (well, maybe not Hamburg, I'm a vegetarian) and London and Paris and Champagne and Edinburgh and all of Wales... *sigh*. I'd like to tour America as well, go to all fifty states. I want to have a box, a small-ish box, each with a very, very small something from each state. I've never seen a bayou, or the Atlantic, or a volcano, or even mountains from anywhere but above. I've never been to my nation's capitol city. I've never seen New York City, or Boston, or Philadelphia. Never been to Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Conneticuit, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, or Wyoming. I've never been outside the United States. There is so much I want to do before I even think about college. What if I die tomorrow and never get to do them? After all, I owe them a lot; they've kept me alive. They're the reasons I have scars and not deep wounds that will never heal. They're the reasons I've never jumped off the bridge by teh grocery store, never sat unmoving on the train tracks, never fallen asleep in the bath, never done drugs or drank (excessive) alcohol. They're the reasons I wear a seatbelt in an automobile and my helmet on a bicycle and clothing that isn't suggestive.
I know now that if I ever wondered what made me love so deeply, laugh so heartily, or cry so forcefully, that I will never wonder again. It is fear. Fear watches over me like a guardian angel, so I take care of myself. I'm not like the status quo, who fear other countries because the government tells them so. I fear not being able to live my life to the fullest. I fear not being able to live out my dreams.
People ask me what I want to do with my life. I nearly gave my high school's guidance consellor a heart attack once because I answered "drive a truck". I've also said "live out of a van", "write books", "run for public office", "meet my future spouse in a bar", "sleep", "make music in a college town", and "be proposed to by someone who offers me a vending machine ring, not because he or she is a cheapskate but because they can't afford it". The truth is, the honest truth, is that I want to be remembered. I want kids to be able to think of me the way I think of John Lennon. I want to be loved and respected by people I never met, by people who were born after I died, by people who think I must have been a good person because I tried my damndest to make a difference, to change things.

However, I'll have a job of doing that...no one even reads my stupid blog.

It's in the making...

I've gotten some new CDs. Mezmerize by System of a Down and Beautiful Disorder by Breaking Point. Breaking Point is a new-ish band that's currently on tour with Theory of a Dead Man (of No Surprise fame) and Submersed (of Hollow fame). I hear it's a good show, and I want to go'n see them... but I doubt I can.

Firefly.

You ever feel like a firefly? You're not a firefly. Fireflies are not flourescent lights... they don't buzz very much. Firefly is a song by Breaking Benjamin.. and I like it. Rather a lot. I recommend it, in fact.

Science is interesting stuff.

BEHOLD!

The apocalypse has come. It really has... only we can prevent it. If we got off our sorry American backsides and figured out what the word "free" means, what the actual concept our nation was built around entails, we could avoid the apocalypse. Ha! I have found my new purpose in life... to attempt to use my Blog to enlighten the populace. Maybe it'd be better if people started to come...

I'm going to be talking about some controversial stuff. I'm going to try to tell you things as I see them... but I'd like to know how other people see them, too. If you'd like to respond to anything I say, I can be reached at amarcelon@hotmail.com (please use a subject of "Blog Response", otherwise I won't open your mail), or at the screenname Sebhar on www.elftown.com, www.elfpack.com, and www.cathug.com. Among others, but we'll start there for now.

Poem!

Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Striped polo shirts accented by jeans
Blue, artfully torn by a
Twelve-year-old Chinese kid
In a sweatshop on the flipside of the world

Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Ruffled miniskirts and alien hair
All perfect, straightened, ironed, crisp, yet
Faded and patched, either too tight or too loose
Too long or too short, never fitting just right.

Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Not thinking for themselves; not thinking for others
In fact, not thinking at all
Content to succumb to mob psychologies instituted by… fear
Certainly not by the American errorists
Next time you cry, watch the people herd by
Humans in uniform fight no real wars.

A Change of Seasons

Well, summer's coming. I'm going to have a lot more free time on my hands... so beware! The rants shall come full-force. I'm drafting one right now about how so few people know what freedom really is anymore. Most of those ignorant to freedom are Americans, creating one of the most depressing situations in history. Ta, all!

AAAAA!

I just posted an apology for having a stupid computer that deleted my nice post on the awesomosity of Beck. But no, the stupid comp deleted that, too. Garrrrr!

Websites!

Here are some websites (other than those of my favourite bands) that I think should be more publicly available. Most are politically themed.

www.bobanddavid.com
www.thetruthuncovered.com/
www.unprecedented.org
www.Bushin30seconds.org
www.moveOn.org
www.blacklistbooking.com/lastchance
www.punkvoter.com
www.democracynow.org
www.flashpoints.net
www.commondreams.org
www.undergroundactionalliance.org
www.zmag.org
www.alternet.org
www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/jesus
www.hm.indymedia.org
www.americanfamilyvoices.org
www.GregPalast.com
www.Disinfo.com
www.truthuncovered.com
www.unconstitutionalthemovie.org
www.slappedtogether.com

Annnd... this will be updated every so often as well.

UPDATE!

I'm updating! Go me! I've got my band list going... it's being prepared... so... yeah, I'm going to work on it. www.useless-id.com

lala! BIRTHDAY!

Aah, today. Tis me birthday, you know. I'm all of fifteen, a grand auld mature lady and whatnot. Ha.

Kay. I suppose the up-to-the-moment BIRTHDAY COVERAGE should be started with what I posted on Cathug today (that's www.cathug.com , username Sebhar).

"I'm fifteen! Have been for.. Oh! Over an hour! Go me! I turned fifteen in Spanish. And Shelley made me a cake. And Molly and Meeshull made me pretty signs for my lockers. And Dan and Tyler played "Happy Birthday" to me via trombone... Beany wrote "Happy B-day" on her hands and sang to me at lunch... Shelly and Emily hugged me, and Deven took my lunch tray up. I got two new Pink Floyd t-shirts, one DSOTM, one Millenium (black rock tees, I love it) and a Jimi Hendrix tee. OH! and a new suit for dance, a top and some pants... AND a new Dark Side of the Moon "baseball" cap. Mum made me a cake (sour cream white, my abso-bally-lute favourite) and it looks TASTY... I had strudel for brekky! Yesterday we went to see a replica of Sue, you know, the big ol' t-rex... so I got a Sue teeshirt! wOOt! I love Sue, she's one crazy-awesome fossilized ancient reptile."

It'll probably rain today, sorry guys. It's April 18th and it always finds it necessary to rain on my birthday.

I'm having a birthday party on the 22nd, my place, 6-11 p.m. Ha! We're gonna hang out and eat junk food and generally be unhealthy... wOOt!

I really, really love college towns. There're always funky coffee shops, tattoo places, bookstores (used = win), etc. I mean, more often than not you even get an organic/health food store. Which also equals win.

I'll post again later... soy bored.

The Band List (pt. 1)

The list of bands from my English notebook (you know, the blue one, with my poems in. It has a series of quotes on the front... "Got a crush on a pretty pistol", "My momma said to get things done you'd better not mess with Major Tom", "Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe in, breathe in..." "Do you love your guns?" "The world is an ashtray" and that's it. The large number 80 has been shaded burgundy with a permanent marker; the barcode and label reading "COLLEGE RULED" have been coloured green)

23 More Minutes
AC/DC
Admiral
A Fire Inside (AFI)
Against Me! - www.againstme.net
Alice Donut
Alice in Chains
Alkaline Trio - www.alkalinetrio.com
Anger Means
Anna Joy
Anti-Flag - www.anti-flag.com ( www.soaw.org )
Antigenre -
the Ataris - www.theataris.com
Authority Zero - www.authorityzero.com
Autopilot Off - www.autopilotoff.com
Avenged Sevenfold
Bad Religion - www.badreligion.com
the Banned
Bhang Revival
Jello Biafra - www.alternativetentacles.com www.suddendeath.com
Black Box
Black Sabbath
Blatz
Blister
Blood, Sweat, and Tears
Bouncing Souls - www.bouncingsouls.com www.chunksaah.com
Brazil
Candlebox
Children of Bodom
the Clash
Class of '99
Collateral Damage
Alice Cooper
Cream
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Cringer
David Bowie
Damage Plan
Dashboard Confessional
the Dead Kennedys
the Dead Milkmen
Deep Purple
Denali - www.denalimusic.com
Descendents - www.descendentsonline.com
the Detonators
Dillinger Four - www.angelfire.com/mn/dillingerfour
D.O.A.
the Donots - www.donots.com
Downcast
the Dropkick Murphys - www.dropkickmurphys.com
the Dwarves - www.thedwarves.com
Econochrist
Epoxies - www.the-epoxies.com2
the Exies
Face of Decline
Farside
Fat Mike (love!)
Filth
Flaw
Flawed
Flogging Molly - www.floggingmolly.com
the Foo Fighters - www.foofighters.com
Fountains of Wayne
the Frisk - www.thefrisk.com
Funeral for a Friend
Gas Huffer
the Get Up Kids - www.thegetupkids.com
Glass Eye
Golden Earring
Green Day - www.greenday.com
the Hellbillies
Heroin
Hot Water Music - www.hotwatermusic.com
the (International) Noise Conspiracy - www.internationalnoise.com
Jawbreaker - www.blackballrecords.com
Jealous Again
Jesus Lizard
Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
Keane
the Killers
L7
Lagwagon - www.lagwagon.com
the Lawrence Arms - www.thelawrencearms.net
Led Zeppelin
Less Than Jake - lessthanjake.com
Libido Boys
Limp Bizkit
Lipps Inc.
Los Del Rio
Los Lonely Boys
Mad Caddies - www.madcaddies.com
Marilyn Manson
Millions of Dead Cops
Ministry - www.ministrymusic.org www.sanctuaryrecordsgroup.com
Modest Mouse
Morphius
My Chemical Romance
Nation of Ulysses
Neurosis
New Found Glory - www.newfoundglory.com
Nine Inch Nails
Nirvana
No Doubt - www.nodoubt.com
NOFX - www.nofx.com
None More Black - www.nonemoreblackonline.com
No Use For a Name - nouse4aname.com
the Offspring - www.offspring.com
Only Crime - www.onlycrime.com
Operation Ivy
Paxton Quigley
Pearl Jam
Pennywise - www.pennywisdom.com
Poison the Well
Potemkin Village
Pretty Girls Make Graves
PTC
Queen
the Ramones
Rancid - www.rancidrancid.com
the Red Road Ensemble
Regency Buck
Right Said Fred
Rise Against - www.riseagainst.com
Robbie Robertson
the Rolling Stones
Rufio
the RX Bandits
Samiam
Aladdin Sane
Schoolhouse Rok
Scratch Acid
Screeching Weasel
Sewer Trout
the Sex Pistols
Sick of It All - www.sickofitall.com
Sleater-Kinney - www.sleater-kinney.com
Social Distortion - www.socialdistortion.com
Something Corporate
the Soviettes - www.the-soviettes.com
Special Guest
the Spiders From Mars
Ziggy Stardust
the Stench
Joss Stone
Stone Temple Pilots
Strike Anywhere - www.exitenglish.com www.strikeanywhere.org
Strung Out - www.strungout.com
Sugarcult - www.sugarcult.com
Sum 41 - www.sum41.com
Supafuzz
the Sweet Children
System of a Down
Taking Back Sunday
the Talking Heads
Thatcher on Acid
Third Eye Blind
Thought Riot - www.thoughtriot.com
Three Days Grace
Three Doors Down
the Tom-Tom Club
the Trans-Siberian Orchestra
Tribe 8
Trouser Trout
TVTV$
U2
the Unseen - www.unseenpunks.com
URGE
Useless ID - www.useless-id.com
Velvet Revolver
the Von Bondies
Wayback Machine
Wendy Om
the Who
the World/Inferno Friendship Society - www.worldinferno.com
Yellowcard - www.yellowcardrock.com

This still needs to be added to, but I'm putting it up for the halibut. Teehee.

Whoa.

Love makes me treat you the way that I do
Gee baby, ain't I good to you...
(I haven't seen that movie for a LONG time.)

I'm so tired, pero I can't sleep. And I'm kinda freaked out because I can't get onto Elfpack or Cathug (Elfwood works and Elftown is blocked by the school's filter. Funny how I can get on here and Diaryland and hi5 but not ET or Xanga).

Nathan and Allan were fighting over whose bitch I was. Weird. Allan wanted to know what a Charlie was (haha) and I said I would tell Michelle later, but not him because I wasn't his bitch and didn't HAVE to tell him anything. After a bit of him saying yes I was and me saying no I wasn't, I elbowed Nathan and he stopped laughing and said I wasn't Allan's bitch, I was his bitch. Hmmmmmmn. So Allan tells Michelle and I that he'd rather be his bitch than Nathan's bitch... but I quickly put him right by telling him that Nathan didn't snap his fingers and expect me to follow him. Nathan agreed with that... then said that he only snapped his fingers to get me into bed. Mrf. I can't win; all my guy friends are pervey. Anyway, I glared at him and said that was only the one time (ha). So he raised his eyebrow at me, and I sighed and admitted to the second time (double-ha). Michelle and Allan looked at me funny and I just told them that it was two A.M. and I was drunk, what was I supposed to do? Joking with people is crazy fun, I just hope they don't take me seriously.

*sings* my stomach turns and i exhale...

Yeowhaaheeheehoo! I think I might be hysterical. *nervous "heh"*

I'll smoke soapbar until i f***ing die/my friend and me looking through her red box of memories/we're fighting fire with water but i want to be with you/tearing down windows and doors and I could not find eyes like yours/we didn't start the fire/no more miracles, loaves and fishes, been so busy with the washing of the dishes/in your eyes i am complete/the darkness falls on the valley, the darkness falls on the plain. come all, darkness fall, it's an ebony ball, come all to humanity's bane/no promises as vague as heaven/CAN YOU HELP ME DOES ANYBODY HEAR ME CAN THEY EVEN SEE ME...

Kai?

I wonder about people, sometimes. I wish I could look through other people's eyes, see things and people and events as they see them. I almost can, sometimes.

Recently I've been wondering what it would be like to be my friend David. Or my friends Chelsea or Nathan or Ashley. Stuff is... well, different in my life than I'd like it to be. David's mum plays in an orchestra. I wanna do that someday, play in an orchestra.

I'm nearly done with The Catcher in the Rye. I want to run away with Holden. Oh my.

OH! and I took this test. I belong in the seventh level of hell. Oh well.

OH my.

Sophomores are silly. I mean, they like...well, let's just say they're silly. No, it's not Scottish cheese.. it's cottage cheese. Honestly. They do have a good side, though.. they're not all cliquey, like the freshies. The freshmen are even more stupid than the sophs. How depressing. The 8th graders are more fun than the freshmen.. I mean, come on. Cliques are NOT the answer.

Oh.. I keep falling more and more in love with Holden. *tear* He's so wonderful...

And Emily Francois is like the nicest person alive. All forgiving, even though I lose our music constantly.

You knows I loves you, baby.

There's a song. It's by Goldie Lookin' Chain. It's called "You Knows I Loves You Baby". It's stuck in my head.

Holden = incredible awesome schway sexy man. Go him! Yeah... Really, though, huzzah for Holden. He's an awesome dude... *sigh*

lalalalalalalala... researching the Human Genome Project. What an ambitious undertaking!

*hum* don't stand so, don't stand so, don't stand so close to meeeeeeeeeeeeeee...

Well, yeh, enough for today. I'm tired. G'night and all... wait tisn't even 2 pm yet. Kdish.

Le First Posting

Well, here it is, the end of March already. There's about ten minutes left of Biology... huzzah. I do warn you - my life is deadly dull. Since I dislike hand-writing things, I post all the hideously boring aspects of my life into blogs.
OTHER PLACES I AM:
www.hi5.com
www.elftown.com - username Sebhar
www.elfpack.com - username Sebhar
www.cathug.com - username Sebhar
www.elfwood.com
www.diaryland.com
http://green-day666.diaryland.com
www.xanga.com/sebhar
I have Yahoo! and MSN IM (so far)
sebhar_sveran@yahoo.com
amarcelon@hotmail.com

I fell in love with a fictional character today... Holden Caulfield from The Catcher In The Rye. Great book, read it... and all that.