A Little Rambling...

Okay, so I've been in a rambling mood as of late. It started with a certain someone's Facebook picture, then quickly escalated. I can't say exactly why I feel the need to rant and ramble, but those of you who read this will see the brunt of this storm.

Firstly, where do guys get off calling girls confusing? I mean, not that guys are all that hard to figure out, but all in you guys are total teases. Guys are always like, "Haha! I'mma tickle yooouuu!" Followed by very flirty and slightly inappropriate physical contact. Then they'll go out with another girl and still tickle you (This has never happened to me, I'm making this up as I go). I know girls are sneaky and really frustrating, but come on. At least we know what we are. You guys act all oblivious...but I'm onto you. I am onto you.

Secondly, wouldn't it be really creepy (but in the long run slightly funny, and a really great story) if some guy tried to hit on you, but told you he had herpes and followed up that revelation with the words, "I like to spread my love around, baby?". I don't why that thought popped into my mind, but it did.

Actually, I just lied. I do know why, but I'm not gonna tell you.

Finally (and this is the big one), I hate faceless, voiceless communication. That sounds hypocritcal I guess, because after all this is a blog. But this blog, as said a while back, is for me and not you. Anyway, back to the point. Things like IM and texting and MySpace really bother me. I do have a Facebook, I won't lie. But it's causing a lot of problems for me.

You see, I got a Facebook because I wanted to keep in contact with my friends while I'm away at school. I know you're thinking, "Then why not just call them?". Well, I hate phones. I hate calling people, I hate talking on them...It's a problem. Hence, the Facebook seemed like a good idea. But now I see it is even worse than my dreaded foe, Mr. Telephone. Mr. Facebook (and his cousins Instant Messenger and Email), have really messed with my whole mindset.

The problem lies in the fact that these forms of communication eliminate many of the crucial variables of human contact. For instance, I am highly dependent upon facial expression and body language to let me know how a person is feeling. Another reason I hate phones. My hand movements are important to my storytelling and I feel that people don't get the full effect over telephone or other non-face-to-face conversations. This irks me.

But you know what really irks me? The fact that Mr. Facebook and all his relations have cut out the most important variable of human communication: voice. Voiceless words (when not in literature form) frighten me. I never know what exactly a person is saying. Do they mean it maliciously? Sarcastically? Sweetly? The endless possibilities are what get me. In my head most people sound angry or annoyed. This is probably because I have this fear that people only pretend to like me, but are secretely plotting my demise.

I'm not kidding. Unless I really trust the person, I always feel like they're playing with me. Only liking me when it's convenient. So, when someone replies to my somewhat scattered, spastic comments with a three word response I freaks me out. A lot.

...Do you know if paranoid schizophrenia is hereditary?

Disconnect: The Exeter Bubble

I feel stupid. While I no longer call myself a diehard Fall Out Boy fan, I was devastated when I learned that they had released a new album without my knowledge. Anyone who's known me at any point from 5th grade to the middle of 7th knows that FOB was my one and only for a loooooong time. I loved them. Loved them. Still do, actually. But that's not really what I'm here to talk about tonight.

Instead, I think I will allow this to present an example of the selective permeability of the Phillips Exeter Academy bubble.

The PEA bubble is phenemenom which can be described after living there for only about a month. Often very few things will find their way into our school lives. It's not that we're sheltered. Quite the opposite, actually. It's simply that Exeter has so much to offer that you, well, forget. Plus, we are in the middle of nowhere. I think that helps a considerable amount.

In Exeter, you're so preoccupied with the next math test or club meeting or what have you, that the world outside simply dissolves. This goes for things beyond the media, as well. There are lot of things that go unnoticed at Exeter, that are quite contreversial in the "reall world". For instance, it's fairly normal for me to see Curtis and Brendan share a quick peck during a free moment. Here, back home, it's considered taboo. In a way, that makes me sad.

I go through culture shock everytime I come home, and everytime I go back to school. Things are so disconnected at Exeter, and yet it seems that in some ways Exeter is a little ahead of the rest of the world. I don't really understand that, but I've got a good four years to figure it out.

Oh, one more thing:

Okay, you're lying if this isn't the most adorable thing you've ever see.

Just wanted to end on a light note... ;)

Giddy

It was not a date.

It was not a date.

So why can't I stop smiling?

I wish I could answer this question and I wish I could care about whether or not he reads this, but I cannot do either. I have experienced Evening Prayer (EP) with a sweet, beautiful and I cannot help but be happy.

Before, I used to wonder how girls could get so giggly over boys, but now...God, now I understand! There must some sort gland within the female abdominal area that produces pink bubbles. When the pink bubbles build up (due to excess romantic emotion) they turn into giggles! This is the only possible explaination.

Sorry this wasn't as deep, but this is about me writing what I feel, not what you want to read.

I've A Paper Cut and Radiohead...Pity Party Anyone?

Why is he so perfect?

Why, why, why, why, why?

In A New Light

I don't like my old posts. They sound whiney and pathetic. I wish they weren't there. I wish people coudln't see how exceedingly melodramtic I am in my self-expression. Indeed, I've come to quite strongly dislike such writings. I think that people such as myself will often think that their writings are better because of the descriptions. Well, let me tell you something: Charlotte Bronte was descriptive. John Steinbeck was descriptive. Shakespeare was descriptive. What I have written is verbose and silly.

To be quite honest, I never realized how silly I sounded until I heard other people read similar writings. I think we are so caught up in trying to make some profound statement that we forget the point of writing. This is a lesson I have learned and even still must continue to learn. I would advise that you take the time to learn it as well.

Now that's settled, I've written a couple poems. Enjoy.

Rodeo Drive
I like your words.
They look so pretty, sitting soft and sweet within the glass display.
The saleswoman beckons me inside,
Inviting me to try them on.
They feel so comfortable,
Loving, warm and soft.
Somehow I knew they would.
But then I look in the mirror and see they don’t quite fit,
And I am reminded that I can’t afford them anyway.

Wishful Thinking
She wishes he knew.
God, she wishes he knew.
When he walked into town,
A storm began to brew.
She liked his eyes, his lips, his spark.
Liked his smile,
And the sound of his heart.
But the storm waits for none.
Away he was blown.
Now she misses the sun,
And God, she wishes he knew.
Oh, how she wishes he knew.

Frustration

Why are the majority of the kids who are worth knowing always older than me? This isn't to say that I don't love my friends that are the same age. I just happen to fond of people in higher grades of schooling. For instance, camp staff. These are easily some of the coolest people I've ever met. Only problem is that they're 18+ years in age, making it rather awkward when I would rather hang out with them then kids my own age.

I feel this will be my lot in life, though. I will forever be attracted to older people. It's not so much that they are indeed older, but the simple fact that my brain seems to be closer to their level of thought and communication than many of the people I associate with. There have actually been instances in which I'll say to myself, "Gosh...if [insert older person's name] were here, they would get it."

I suppose I sound rather conceited at this moment, and I apologize for that. But I can't help it that I love soaking up the wisdom that is equal to or transcends my own. Let's face it, older is often equated with cooler. It's a well known fact of life.

Sad part? I don't think they know how cool they are, or how much they mean to me. These people are what I want to be like when I'm their age. They are the model. I wish I wasn't so readily subject to people's influence, but I am.

Older people validate me, give me peace of  mind with their kind words of recognition. I'm a sucker for it.

I should've been born about 8 years ago...

This is so frustrating...!

Surrealness Pt.1

John Green.
Talked to me.
ON THE PHONE!
I think this qualifies for the first of my "Surrealness" series, don't you? There will be more to come, seeing as my life seems to filled with limitless opportunities for such occurences. Hmm, not much to add to this...

I love you guys. You could make rainbows cry skittles 'cause you're so amazing. Yes, I stole that from one of my Ficlets, but it's more true now than it was when I originally wrote it.

Love, love, love, love you guys! Don't forget that, okay?