I probably only read about a third of the stories in Ant Farm by Simon Rich, and I can honestly say it's the funniest thing I've ever read. Laughing so hard I couldn't breath.

Collective lack of self-consciousness is the best. 

QOTD: "I'm Hollywood and I don't fucking go to NYU!"

QOTD: "You're strange-ing me outWAIT WHAT THE HELL?"

I saw Transformers 2, and it was just too noisy. I would have enjoyed the action sequences much more if it didn't sound like rocks in a tumbler the entire time. Visually stunning, audibly awful. Is audibly a word? No red line underneath, it must be. I don't think it makes sense in that sentence though. But you get my point. 

Happening right now: I need to finish Naked. So I can read The World According to Garp. Or A Prayer for Owen Meany. They're written by the same author, right? Yeah they are. I just googled it. John Irving. 

As I drive home from social gatherings, I always become nostalgic about whatever just happened. I try to savor the memory while it's still fresh in my mind. I think about everything everyone said, about looks that were exchanged, about little things that can be significant. 

I think about it now, before it becomes a vague "Oh yeah, we hung out at Parker's that night".

I feel really really really just really fortunate to have my friends. 

Happening right now: I'm listening to Sufjan's album Michigan. The songs, they enter my ear canal and massage my brain. 

Oh and also: I might start adding a "Quote of The Day" section to this blog, because I'm not quite up to a picture or a song everyday. The quote of today is, well, anything Phoebe sang while "singing along" to Semi Charmed Life. 

All people want is to love and be loved. 

My heart is so full!

To sum up the past week:

I paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled.

My hands hurt. My arms hurt. My shoulders hurt. My ass hurts. I hurt.

I'm leaving for a week to canoe down a river in Maine. Phew. 

Thank goodness I don't actually blog about anything serious. 

Falling asleep to the sound of rain is fantastic. Here is my textual interpretation of this rain:

pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh psh pshh...

My point being that it is so so so soothing. Hopefully it won't subconsciously motivate me to urinate. I haven't wet the bed since I was ten. 

Anyways.

Today, I ran out of gas. My accelerator just suddenly stopped working. Fortunately, I was within a few miles of my house, and after a short time, my neighbor brought me a few gallons of gasoline (he's a really nice guy). During that time, however, someone decided it was necessary to call 911 about a car on the side of the road, so a police officer pulled up, lights flashing, making it appear as though I'd been pulled over. Considering that he asked for my license and registration, and many passerbys gawked at me, I might as well have been.

My day improved later. It was Kelsey Lee's birthday, so we all went to her house for dinner. Kelsey said it was "formaly", but there was a spectrum of attire, from casual (Jeff, Lanny) to dressy (me, Michela). We DP'ed in her basement to mainly-awful-but-also-mainly-good music, like that "skeet skeet skeet" song. 

We also did some filming for our documentary. Phoebe, if you're reading this, I forgot to give you the camera/you forgot to take it. 

Happening right now: My back aches from not slouching all day.

Last night, I went to a Middle Eastern food restaurant called El Basha with some guys. We had "bro night", and smoked a hookah. I really enjoyed the strawberry kiwi flavor, which tasted exactly like Snapple in gaseous form. 

A giant sleeping baby loomed above us while we ate, because our outdoor table was right below a billboard featuring an infant. Lanny commented that Michela would have loved this.  

Happening right now: I'm reading Naked by David Sedaris, and it's wicked funny. The chapter about all the "tics" he had as a child is so great. An excerpt: "I took to violently shaking my head, startled by the feel of my brain slamming against the confines of my skull. It felt so good and took so little time."

Today: 

I went to Comet Pond in the morning with my cousin. We entered the water in two ways: 1) Jumping off a high diving board into an area of questionable depth 2) Using a rope swing of questionable strength.

Later, I went to Lanny's graduation party, where I played volleyball and didn't get too competitive. I would credit this to maturing, but it was probably because I was on the winning team.  

Then, we drove to Jen's graduation party at the Sandwich Co., where I saw Kate Sheridan (Hi Kate! You said you read my blog, so this is a shoutout. Via blog). 

Afterwards, we drove to the Dawson Rec playground. We all took turns trying to run in a straight line after spinning on this spinning-thing. We also rode those weird kiddy-car-on-a-giant-spring things. And I failed at climbing up the tube-slide-thing. What the hell do you call things on a playground, toys? Rides? Fun-makers?

We left the playground, and after wasting an hour driving to Barnes & Noble (we arrived at 8:56, they close at 9), we decided the best way to spend our time was to lay on blankets in Lanny's yard. I enjoyed this, except when a) body parts were exposed to the cold air because my blanket was so goddamned inadequate and b)I wasn't allowed to move, because I was acting as a pillow. 

In retrospect, this was a fun, albeit unproductive, day. Wait, it wasn't unproductive! I was with friends.

Happening right now: I still feel nauseous from the spinning-thing.

Imagine if you drew a picture of a song.

Or painted what a song would look like. Can you imagine that?

I have a Facebook, a blog, and now a Twitter. Overkill. I don't think anyone cares about my thoughts that much.

I have a headache on the right side of my frontal lobe. Ah, AP Psychology. I wish I'd started blogging while I was still in that class. I like to apply psych terminology to my life, but now I can't remember most of what I crammed into my brain for the exam. What I encoded into my short term memory, I should say.

If thinking about thinking is metacognition, what is blogging about blogging?

Song of the day is "I Try" by Macy Gray. It's the song of every day, forever and ever. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qsTk2xp0nvY

Happening right now: This headache has fluctuated between barely detectable to throbbing for a few days now.  

Listen:

Today, I bummed around my house until 330, and then went to a tennis team dinner. Tennis has been a huge part of my high school life, it hasn't set in that there isn't a "next year". Although, I get to play lots of tennis this summer with my coach and Brian (a mild-mannered junior friend), because I'm working as a tennis instructor.

After the dinner, I killed an hour, and went with Liz and people to see Phoebe play flute at Mechanics Hall. She's really good, and makes a funny face when she plays. Afterwards, a guy with a serious neck problem wouldn't stop talking to Phoebe and Liz. I felt bad for him, he clearly was in perpetual discomfort. Or atleast it seemed that way. 

 

Then, I got 7/11 (that's Seven Eleven) slushies with Liz, and was disgusted by the "Double Big Gulps" they sell. It looked like it could hold 900 oz. 

Happening right now: Here is my plan. I want to lose track of time before I go to bed. I've turned the clocks in my room face down, and put a Post-It on the clock in the upper right of my computer screen. I'm going to completely cover my windows with blankets with windows, so the room has no light. I won't know when the sun is up. I WILL BE COMPLETELY UNAWARE OF THE TIME. This way, I'll sleep until I FEEL like getting up, and not feel pressured by the clock. My circadian rhythm will be perfectly on schedule. 

"Bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate." 

Today, I saw this phrase. It sums up how I feel after just about every discussion, debate, or argument I've ever had.

Happening right now: Phoebe and I came up with one HELL of an idea. We're going to create a documentary of this summer. Basically, we'll bring my video camera to social events, and record what happens. We'll conduct interviews with people, and there will be little subplots that focus on different people's relationships and such. We'll add in music and subtitles, and perhaps voice-over commentary. It'll begin this Saturday on graduation, and it'll end when we all are saying goodbye (God, I do not want to think about that). And at the end, we'll all take a copy of the DVD to college.  

I just arrived home from Vermont. On the drive home, I had no iPod, so I had a lot of time to think. And focus on not crashing my yellow 1987 Volvo station wagon, which was a tremendous task, because the car shakes and rumbles and grumbles on the highway (her name is Elenor). So, I thought about all the stuff I want to blog about, but now I can't recall most of it.

Anyways, Vermont was excellent. I love when I'm reminded just how great friends are. Last night was one of those reminders. We played cards and DP'ed and talked the night away. And our judgement really wasn't too bad. It was great. 

In other news, Ms. Hedberg emailed me back about the film festival, and told me that my film deserved to place, and that she was going to show it to future filmmaking classes. So that made me feel good. 

Happening right now: I have to leave for Bonardi's Tuxedo Rental to pick up that dress shirt from them, even though it's not actually the one I rented. So I'm going to return the wrong shirt to Mr. Tux, and I don't care. They can suck it. I'm going to Bonardi's for my tux next time. The guy there was really friendly.