Sometimes We Have to Murder Our Darlings

    I have officially lived through sophomore year of high school!  This is cause for much celebration, I believe.  Two years down, two to go.  This makes me think of my sister's friend who told me, right before freshman the whole experience of Duke Ellington is, "You hate it, then it's over, and you kind of don't hate it."  So far she's been right.

    My twin sister, Alice, left for Nicaragua on Wednesday.  We've never been apart for more than a day.  I keep feeling like somebody is missing.  It's strange.  May I just make an announcement on behalf of all twins, don't ask us if we can read each other's minds.  That is possibly the must stupid and most common question I get asked besides, "'Sup?"  Also, don't ask if we're "like, best friends."  Think about how much you see us together?  If it's a lot, probably yes if not, probably no.  Really...

    Recently I've had this alarming feeling of self-hate in my looks.  I took a bunch of pictures today and I can't help noticing how weird my face is.  Well, I think it's weird.  It may be the most normal face ever, but when it's yours and you have as many problems as I do than you can't look at yourself that much, without wanting to never go outside.  Yeah.  It's not that bad, I just get really self-conscious.

So here I am, again.  School is almost over.  So close, and yet, so far.  I  keep wanting to write a story but I'm not sure how to approach it.

My favorite writing teacher was in my dream two nights ago.  Okay, I know I'm obsessed.  I don't like being obsessed with people I know.  It's awkward.  I can be overbearing, I'm sure, and scare people away.  I don't want that to happen.

Have I mentioned my new favorite band?  They're called Vampire Weekend, they have one album out.  I love them.

I'm torn between wanting people to read this blog and not wanting anyone to know it exists.  The teacher I love says that everyone feels the same.  We all feel that we are alone in our own little painful world.  It was Plato, I believe, who said, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."  I love Plato.  Much better than Aristotle, in my opinion.

 So last post, I talked about my writer-crushes.  I also have a huge crush on Steve Almond, after reading Candyfreak and Which Brings Me To You.  View:

It is my tragedy in life, I believe to get completely enamored with men who I think are much smarter than me.  Whether it be literally smarter or writing-smarter.  The two usually go hand-in-hand.  I mean this is ridiculous right?  What sixteen-year-old girl has a crush on Ira Glass as opposed to, oh, I don't know, Zac Efron.  I don't like that whole surfer look thing.  Few people can pull it off.  And even then it's too...  White.  I mean, I've grown up in DC where I know maybe, ten white guys my age.  So I'm not used to it.  I'm not racist by any means, I have a friend, whose white who will outright say she doesn't like white-guys.  Hah.

I'm looking for an Etheridge Knight poem that's about Sonia Sanchez, does anyone know what I'm talking about?  It's after she left him.

I don't know why I'm writing this.  Not really.  Nobody reads this, and it's probably better that way.

.

It's January 19th 2008.

Two-Thousand Eight.  Ridiculous, I know.  I'm keep writing the date wrong.

You know what I love about Saturday's in DC?  NPR.  Wait...Wait Don't Tell Me, This American Life, Studio 360 and the Splendid Table.  I could stay inside all day and listen.

I'm babysitting tonight.  It will be okay I believe.  Money is a necessity if I want to keep my Starbucks addiction.  It's not like I get a frappe.  I just like the Chai Latte's.  It's the foamed milk that does me in the end.  mmm.

I need to type up poetry today.  Eh. 

I'm reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and Dave Eggers is a genius.

So how are you?

    There's much to say and little to report on my end, as far as things go.

    My Uncle is dead.  My family just got back from Norristown, Pennsylvania.  We went to the funeral.  I'm sad I didn't know him that well.  He had cancer and we were planning on visiting him but on Tuesday night he collapsed and he was on a ventilator and he had a living will.

    I'm I the only person who hates viewings?  I hate them.  I hate seeing the body of a person I loved.  It makes me want to throw up and cry.  I hate it.

    The funeral was beautiful, the graveyard where he's buried is beautiful.  I feel sick and sad and disgusting.  I hate that.  I missed arts block thursday and all of friday.   I don't care though, I'm really happy I went.

    School sucks, but it always sucks.  I've been going crazy.  I get to school at 7:30 and leave at about 5:00.  I'm at school for longer than most people have a work day.  But then again, it's all downhill from here.

    I weird.  I don't mean I'm weird like I shaved my eyebrows off though.  I feel weird.  I'm in a really bad mood then I'm fine and I just float around.  I listen to Joni Mitchell and Neil Young and Ralph Mctell and Patty Griffin and I just cry.

    I'm not sure what I'm crying about half the time.  But I heave and cry and before I know it my cheeks are wet and my face bright red.

    That kind of weird.

    For instance, it's 5:48 and I am in my pajamas.  My dad says that it's just today, the overcast skies and the humidity but I feel all clogged in the head and gorged in my organs.

    Want to know what's sad?  The Saturday after Danielle died I was taking a shower and listening to music and City Of New Orleans came on.  I don't know why but this somehow prompted my to cry like I was five, with trembling lips and fast, hyper ventilating breaths.  And now I can't listen to that song without thinking about Danielle, though I don't think she even knew the song.

    I'm just a loser.  That's how I feel.  Just another fuckin' idiot.  I don't whats happened to my smidgeon of self-esteem but it's gone and I'm left lying here all empty.

    I need to write.  I need to read.  I need to be smart.  But I don't think I'm kidding anyone anymore.

    I'm officially done harry potter.  Done, finito, over with.  And I believe there are two ways I could go about this.

    I could, and have considered crying.  Because the me that was in forth grade, the girl with the awkward hair and earphones on all the time.  The kid who was obsessed with harry potter and couldn't handle anything in the real world, is dead.  Truthfully she's been dead a long time.  Not completely dead of course, part of me still laughs uncontrollably at jim dale's voice of Ms.Weasley and I think I'm just as awkward, if not more so at fifteen than I was at ten, my hair is just nicer(though the bleach is growing out).  I'm sad because when I did nothing but listen to harry potter I was much more innocent.  That was and is my coping mechanism.  Just tune things out, they'll go away.  My mom's deppression, my brother's unhappiness in school, my being in the worst class, not having very many friends.  Tune them out, they'll go away.  I think I'll keep that part of me forever which is why I'm not crying while I write this.

    I'm happy.  I got to have the excitement of waiting for the next book, the next movie.  I got to discuss theories with my family and my friends.  I'm ecstatic that I've been able to learn things from a book that is as crazy as Harry Potter.  I got to relate to harry.  A year after the book where one of Harry's friends died was published my grandmother died.  I got to talk to my swim coach about horcruxes.  I'm happy.

Really.

What are five things that most people don't know about you? 
Submitted by mika.

I play the ukulele
I read comic books
I see a therapist
I'm a pack rat and.....
I have this blog.

For me, having a blog is like me getting a new toy, I love it than toss it aside.

I'm trying not to, it's just me.

I'm a counselor at Peace Camp right now and my group is awful but I'm trying all the harder to be a good person.  I want to help the inner city kids so bad.  I don't live in the country, I actually  live in DC but some of the kids I have are crazy.  Actually crazy.  I'm just trying to love them.

    I can't say I've been busy, really, I've just been doing other stuff.  I read the book The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger and that was beautiful.  I need to read Animal Farm, but everyone tells me it's a quick read.  I hope it's better than Siddhartha.

    My twin sister and I have started jogging a mile and a half(I know, not that much).  But Alice-my sister- is really not a morning person so it's so hard to get out of the door, I just get really frustrated.  It's 10:55 and I told her to be home by ten of ten.  Sigh.  See, frustrating.

    I'm still puttering on the ukulele and it's fun.  This Monday I babysat these two little girls (4 and 7) and the 7-year-old made a poem, that I'd like to share, because it's so cute.

Bees by Janie

Bees bees
Oh, how I love bees!
Hovering from flower to flower,
Sucking up the nectar for new honey,
Oh how I love honey!
Bees bees
Just bees!
I love bees.

    That being said what's happening to the bees?  It's starting to scare me and my younger sister has taken to saying, "Enjoy the apples while you can, soon there won't be any!"  I don't know as much as I'd like to know about it.  I've always felt a good coexistence with bees.  Sure, two summers ago I stepped on one and when I was 6 a bee stung me on my hand but I've always firmly believed that bees only sting when there bothered.  Also, they die after they sting you, think about that!  I mean, the last thing that bee has done is sting you.

    That's a kind of poetic justice.

    Hmm.  I just think Armageddon is going to come because the bees are dying.  It's like, "Oops, forget about the bees, DEATH!"

                **********Spoilers***********

    I'd also like to briefly list my views or theories on Harrry Potter.
Dumbledore is dead, it's sad, but he is.
I think Hagrid, Ms.Weasley and Grawp among other's might die.
Ginny dies and turns Harry EVIL.
Sirius is dead.  Accept it.
As far as Harry is a horcrux, I'm not sure I believe that, because 'neither can live while the other survives'.

I also really want to learn about Lily and James' childhoods.  Or at least learn MORE about Lily.  We don't know anything about her.

Yep.  That's it.

      What story from your wild-and-crazy youth would nobody believe about you today?

I'm fifteen, and so I'm not past my wild-and-crazy youth.  I was a pretty insane 4 year old however.  One time at dinner we were having chicken, rice and peas.  I must have been really bored or something because I stuffed a pea up my nose.  My dad had to take it out of my nose with tweezers.

That's it.