Updates

Heey. Haven't written anything in a while, because I've been terribly busy.

Christmas was a lot of fun, and Cape May was perfect, except for the fact that I caught a cold and didn't get a wink of sleep since the house was haunted by a ghost that was out to get me and Chris.

I think I've made up my mind that David Gahan is the best singer EVERRRR period.

A Walk Through Depeche Mode's History



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rddbXZX154
Kinda funny how innocent and cute they used to be. Tora Tora

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzLrTsZrwhs
I love this song! Can I just say that I was the hippest twelve year old ever? I seriously listened to this song everyday going to school in seventh grade.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKGhl-rC3No
Then they fast forwarded to all the pain that excess brings. Dave is really gorgeous in this video, though. Heroin did wonders for his face, and I'm not kidding, either.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBm_f5RCBec
Then Dave cleaned up! YAY! Now he's healthy, probably happy(er?), and better looking than ever. Go, Dave!

The Depeche Mode concert was the shiz, too. Such a good show.

I miss it lol

You're the Man Now Dog

There's a kid I know who I will call Tyler Pickle, for anonymity's sake. He is a soph, and pretty out there but in that totally cool "I know more about Leroy Jenkins than you do" way. In fact, he was listening to rap today, and this girl was rapping about Boba Fett, and weird stuff.

This kid is awesome.

At one point, his friend was playing Runescape, and when our teacher asked what it was, he said, "Why, it's Runescape- only the hottest game on the net right now." I love it; it's like he's so self-deprecating about his nerdiness.
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Sean Connery was really such a good looking guy. I love him. My Italian teacher and I both agree, Sean Connery, as a seventy year old man, is still mad attractive. Sneh's like, "But he's hairy!!!" That's true. But he's Scottish.


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Dear JK Rowling,
Even though I stopped reading at book number four or so, I really have a lot of respect for you. You're a huge Morrissey fan, you live in Scotland, and you seem to be a very interesting, compassionate, and funny person. We'd be friends, in that total Italian Teacher/ Student way. Except you're an author. But anyway, I applaud you for your dedication to the Harry Potter series. Those books are mad long. You have a lot of patience. However, I have to admit that the title of the seventh book (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows) is possibly the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I almost choked on my saliva when I heard that was the name. I thought, "Wow, I got to check that out on Snopes.com" and much to my surprise, it isn't an Internet Rumor; it's the truth.

Jk Rowling, you are a sane member of our planet Earth, but in naming the final installment of your biggest achievement "Harry Potter and the Deathy Hallows", you lose some cred. Fix this problem. To help you out, I've created some great ideas you should consider seriously.

1) Harry Potter and the Ravages of Acne- Acne is extremely powerful in any teenager's life; even Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance against cystic acne. And who knows if you guys have Proactive??

2) Harry Potter and the Annoying Seven Movies- Wow, the fact that they keep on coming out with Harry Potter movies makes me want to chew my teeth.

3) Harry Potter and the Question of Sexuality- There's got to be someone gay at Hogwarts.

No, but really, I like Harry Potter. Just not like that one girl who wears wizards' robes and lives on those jelly beans and is constantly re-reading books 1-6. And not like the girl who signs her papers, Liz Malfoy

gfs

http://www.theonion.com/content/node/56628

I'm trying to learn German, btw. It's so difficult. I can't even form the sounds right. Glue-click vin-dacht-tin. Merry Xmas!

Stuff I Forgot To Say

Oh, and don't tell me you've studied Catholicism. Anyone who has studied Catholicism wouldn't have been even ATTEMPTING to make the point this boy was trying to get across; if you have studied Catholicism, you'd know that Catholics don't worship Mary.

The truth is, we just have mad respect. Like Ms. N and I were saying, she had to be a very special person to be conceived without original sin, and to be blessed with bearing the Son of God. She's not this average, everyday human vessel.

But whatever- Che significa? They're not going to change their minds. And I don't want to. Just don't smack that Bible at me.

I guess this is a very appropriate post, since Christmas is in only four days. I think that there is this religious stigma in society today; that you can't be a cool person, or even a good person, if you have some religious belief. I don't think that's true. I think you can be a learned individual and understanding and kind, and believe in an organized, established religon. It all basically comes down to that, and I believe you can go ahead and do whatever you want.

I'm baking cookies now. Have a good day!

How Could Mary Be a Virgin blah blah blah

Jesus has been the talk of the town all over my high school, and ignorant annoying kids who think they're so hip and anti-establishment keep saying, "How could Mary be a virgin if she gave birth to Jesus?"

Ok. It's a good question, right? I mean, anyone in their right mind would ask that. But how the Hell do you NOT know the Christmas story after being alive on this Earth for fifteen years? I keep explaining to people, Christian, Muslim, atheist, agnostic, whatever- that Mary was a virgin when she, through God's intercession, became pregnant with Jesus Christ. And everyone's like, "Oh, wait so God had sex with Mary-"

That's when I slap a bitch.

I'm a mad Catholic this week. Really. I'm a very understanding person, and I'm in no way conservative or fundamentalist- but bitches need to stop being so stupid, and pick up a book or at least listen to programs on the Discovery Channel. Do you REALLY REALLY freaking believe that I'm going to tell you, "Yes, God had sex with Mary. That's why she was a Virgin." Um, no.

My friend who is interested in religion is reading all about Christianity. She's very interested in Mary; Both Jesus' mom, and Mary Magdalene. She asked, "Was Mary always a virgin?" And I began to tell her about how Catholics and other denominations would have different answers, and how Protestants would say, No, Jesus had brothers blah blah blah blah blah, and that Catholics would say, No, Mary was a Virgin blah blah blah blah blah when Mr. Jehovah's Witness and Bible Belt Christian completely interrupt me and never give me a chance to speak.

I was totally going to give her a fair and unbiased answer, and cover all the bases, too.

Fundamentalist Christians are insane. Stop telling me and my Italian teacher that we worship Mary, and that we're going to Hell. No. We're not; and we don't worship Mary, suckas. BTW- Mary is totally spearing all the Fundamentalist Christians in that picture above. She's mad that they spread lies and bias to good people who have some honest questions and want some general answers.

Mary is every Italian's homegirl.

Yesterday

Yesterday, after watching Trouffaut's "The 400 Blows", I was so tired and cold, I crawled into bed to watch some of the commentary and to close my eyes for ten minutes. I must've fallen asleep, because my mom woke me up at 8:00 PM to ask if I wanted to watch my tv program.

"I fell asleep!" I moaned, groggily. "Ten more minutes."

When I opened my eyes, I was in the same position, staring at the wall, and it was very dark outside. The lights in the house were all out. I looked at my cell, and it was 1:40 in the morning. I went downstairs, got a glass of water, and fell back asleep. I woke up at six o' clock. Y-eah.

Randomness

What amazes me about Morrissey is that here's this man singing about isolation and feeling alienated, alone, and different. According to Morrissey, he's "never had no one ever". And he's "the world's ugliest man". Yet he's reached so many people through his music. While he sings about being alone, he's got millions of people who love him and feel that he's the most gorgeous man, inside and out. It's ironic, I guess; He might have felt like he was mad alone, but he's got so many fans, Mexicans and non-Mexicans, who just looooooooove him.

I think that there needs to be a talkshow where someone, preferably moi, speaks to assholes like Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter, and Republicans and avoids "civilized" conversations. Instead, I'd pull a Barry Gibb Talk Show.

Christmas is in six days. I'm really excited. I can't wait for Friday into Saturday, because I'm SLEEPING!! my way, which is a total of thirteen hours. Y-eah.

THE HAPPINESS

Christmas is in six days.
I'm watching Cinema Paradiso in Italian for the rest of the week.
I'm baking cookies Thursday.


THE SADNESS

Thinking about them just makes me miss Scotland more.
I have "ugly" hair
I eat when I'm not hungry, and feel fat.

part deux

well, i mentioned before how i had seen santa twice. i told you all about my adventures with santa below, because that was the most insanely awesome experience i had. the other one was slightly less awesome, so i won't really bother to tell u about it except i looked up in the sky and saw rudolph.

guys, i'm going to make a list of reasons why i hate george w. bush. stay tuned.

santa is alive and well

I was upset when I finally faced the truth and realized that a big fat man in a red suit didn't break into my house every early Christmas morning to deliver Barbies and TY Beanie Babies that he supposedly made in his "factory". I always doubted the factory part of the Santa Myth, btw. I was a smart kid; I knew there was no way Mattell was some dinky cabin in the North Pole filled with Mexican worker Elves. I always thought that Santa had a trust with all the toy companies; they probably just shared stocks, and shipped half their products to the North Pole, I mean, C'MON.

But I DID believe in Santa. I truly did. Because I saw him twice. Contrary to the factory ordeal, I was a good kid that really did believe every part of the Santa myth. I knew that Santa could land on my rooftop, and snap his fingers and end up in my house. I knew that Santa had to be real.

One time, I was so excited on Christmas Eve that I could hardly sleep. I woke up at around two in the morning, and sat in my bed, pondering. Should I go downstairs? Was Santa here yet? Should I wake everyone up?

Finally, I decided to summon my bravery and go downstairs. I tip-toed out of the room and walked carefully down the stairs, until I was on the bottom step. I bent over the railing, and peeked past the kitchen and into the living room, where I saw a shadowy figure underneath my Christmas tree.

My heart raced! Was it Santa? Did he see me? I quickly started to turn back, but decided I couldn't pass up this opportunity. So I looked again; the figure was still there! It wasn't my imagination. I blinked and pinched my arm; still there.

I went into the hall. Picture a little white girl with short hair and a Panda nightgown on, slowly walking to the glow of her Christmas tree, where some random stranger was arranging presents under.


"Santa?" I stopped by the end of the kitchen tile, where the kitchen setting met the carpeted living room. The man slowly turned around.

"Shhh," he said. "Don't make a sound."

Santa's voice wasn't jolly or good natured. Instead it was very harsh. In fact, he was different than I expected. He was skinny and had leathery skin and dirty hair. A swastika was carved into his forehead. On the wall he had written PIGGIES in red marker.

JK. It wasn't Charlie Manson. It was Santa.

Santa was much shorter than I expected, but he still looked like all the pictures and Coke bottles. His suit looked soft and shiny, and his beard was brushed and neat.

"Santa! Merry Christmas!"
"Why, thank you. And a Merry Christmas to you, too!" he winked. He set the last gift down, and sighed.
"I'm a hungry panda. Would you like to show me where my cookies are?"
"Of course!"

I showed Santa the plate of Low-Fat Stella Dora cookies and 2% Milk that was laying on the table. Santa sat on my chair and dunked the cookies into the glass, all the while smiling and humming to himself.

"Santa, how do you go all over the world in one night?" I asked him.
"Why, magic, of course! Plus, I have my trusty reindeer to help me."
"Ohh.."

Santa was done very quickly, and within seconds got up.

"Well, it's time to head down South. I've done all of Canada, New England, and the Great Lakes. Soon I'll be heading over to Brazil."

"Thank you for visiting. I love you, Santa!" I gave him a huge hug.

Santa smelled like alcohol. That was surprising.

"Well, I love you too, Vanessa. Off I go!" And poof, he was gone.

It didn't matter that Santa called me Vanessa, and it didn't matter that Santa reeked of beer. All that mattered to me was that I had seen Santa. And no one else did.

Sometimes I get up early and walk downstairs when it's still quite dark out on Christmas morning. I gaze at the tree and wonder, How could Santa be a fabrication, if I saw him ten years ago and even ate cookies with him?? Who is Vanessa? Would Santa be eligible for a DUI if he really was drinking that night?

Those are the true Christmas mysteries.

santa convention

today in the city there were at least two hundred men (and some women)dressed as santa clause in lincoln center. some formed conga lines, headed by a great big dancing bear, while others attempted to stand on the columns outside the ballet and take pictures of the hundreds of red and white caps. a sea of santas looks like a sea of...confusion? why were they there? some british lady yelled, "FATHER CHRISTMAS!" and pointed for her son to see. someone in passing said it was probably a santa convention, whileanother said that they were there for a huge get-together on an epic scale before they went off around the city. to do what? spread christmas cheer? i hope so.

all of a sudden, the sea of santa parted and a girl dressed in boots, white tights, and a blue tunic emerged from the crowd. on her head was a soft, felt menorah of sorts, and around her waist was a belt of plush dreidels. she was carrying bells in her hands, and gingerly walking toward the met, when she stopped, faced the crowd of on-lookers, and yelled, with lots of hutzpah,

"HAPPY HANUKKAH!!"

We all clapped and yelled for her. She turned around and shimmied back into the crowd of Santas, who were now chanting and jumping and acting generally very merry.

***

I am so Christmasy. It's true. Next school week, yeah, it's going to be crappy, i can't deny. But I am so excited for Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve is greater than Christmas Day. Christmas is just kind of like, Oh wow...While Christmas Eve is like wOoWwWWw!!!zzzz!

I remember the period of time when school was so easy that I would bring a book with me, and read at least forty pages during class. And I'd still get good grades. Now I can't do that. But this week I certainly can. CHRISTMASSS!

Settle Down Children

It's that time again, friends. No, don't get out your hunting equiptment and the map of northern Jersey- it's time to read Laura's book reviews.

Yeats' Irish Legends

Like Lewis Black, I have a respect for Ireland. Of course I've never been there, but I do know that a) the stereotype is true. they do drink. and of course, b) they don't care about healthcare.

Sounds great! Thanks, Lewis Black. But Yeats has taught me another important lesson- that the Irish are freaking weird.

THESE STORIES ARE MESSED UP. They are truly disturbing. People say that life is ducked up now, um, not really when you consider how many Irishmen were slaying, eating, and burning each other on a regular, daily basis five hundred years ago.

Still, I really enjoyed reading the legends and the poems and stuff. Give it a try. It's mad funny at times too. Irish people=intense.


Anderson Cooper's Dispatches From the Edge

Of course, reading my husband's memoirs is kind of unnecessary as we share the most intimate details of our personal, tormented lives with each other. Yet even I, the woman who darns all his socks and orders Chinese food everynight, was surprised at how much I learned about A-Coop from this book.

Anderson intermingles his early childhood memories and experiences in Darfur, New Orleans, and Sri Lanka in a way that is not only extremely personal and touching, but riveting and, dare I say it, HARROWING. The details he shares on his experiences create a sense of "I WAS THERE" in the reader. Even during the toughest parts of his life, you're reading A-Coop's story, and feeling like you're with him the whole time.

why you all got to be so ig'nant

On a sulky afternoon spent in dispute
You'll give yourself a headache, boy
So I take revenge in stories and dreaming of the time when we're on stage
"Have you seen The Loneliness Of A Middle Distance Runner?"
When he stops the race and looks aroundI left the stage"You've seen it now"
I walked to the stationI wish you follow me tonight

i'm sitting in school and i should be working on my pop culture WWI project but I'm too busy looking up lyrics. Today we're putting up our Christmas tree. Thank God. It's about time.

I'm really tired and the rest of the day will be fun fun fun until..... ITALIAN TEST!!! Ahhh!! Mi dico- Che colpo! Il cotone, la lana, e di lusso. Esclusivo. Sono triste per oggi. abbiamo casa.

confronting german heritage

today i asked my father,

"dad, where did our great great grandparents from germany come from?" I decided maybe it was time to full on confront that teensy German heritage I have been trying to deny.

"Bremerhaven."

So I googled, and I got this. Elvis spent a lot of time in Bremerhaven during the war. Bremerhaven is pretty much only known for its port, and Elvis.

what is that cheerful sound? rain falling...

on the ground.
we'll wear a jolly crown
buckle up, we're wayward bound!

***

Today I bought boots. Magnificent, these boots are made for walking boots. I'm very tired. Saturday I'm mad busy, Sunday I'm going to read more of "Emma". It's really good.

***

It's funny how Peter Pan complexes go. You say you'll never change and be a child at heart, then you realize the games you play that are awfully adult. We all learn how the world works, how to get ahead by cheating in an expedient way. Maybe it's all the mock trial I'm doing. I don't know. you know how it is. i'm not necessarily talking about totally horrible things..i mean, just the complaining and whining and races you run in everyday life

Sorry

Sorry, completely screwed up there. Anywhooo, let's commence.

1. Orbit Lemon Lime gum- This is the best gum on the planet. Forget Stride. Forget bubbilicious. Forget any minty flavors and caffeine gums you've been chewing. Lemon Lime is the best flavor known to man. End of story. 1.00

2. Mod a-line dresses. All I'm saying. 30.00+ (?)

3. Mad guns- On Barbs, on me, on Hoggie. On whomever. (Depends on the price of your gym membership, or how many hammers you use while making a spice rack)

4. Not being able to say what you really want to in dire situations, and having the words on the tip of your tongue- PRICELESS.

call me morbid, call me pale, i spent six years on your traaaail. six long years of my life on your trail

Stocking Stuffers '06 (or, The Best Of..)

The London Eye

This is the London Eye, which is the biggest ferris wheel in the world. The ride takes thirty minutes, because it is incredibly awesome. I will be on this soon, and I will look at the world and think, Wow London is gray and ugly yet so charming and British.

London Callilng

I want to go to London.

A lot.

I'm not really that interested in England, I'm just mad for London. I want to go so badly. It's got...Big Ben. Tea. A lot of old rich people. Kings. Museums.

I'm fooling myself into believing that as soon as I step off a plane and into England, it'll be like the swinging London of the mod '60's, though. IDk. But I mean, have you seen that ferris wheel? It's ginormous!!!!

walt whitman wasn't really transcendental

just wanted to say that i am still alive, just mad busy with hw.

in the pines

in the pines, in the pines where the sun don't ever shine i would shiver the whole night through.