Friday, May 28, 2010
That joke isn't funny anymore.
I ended up not getting surgery today. My mum moved the appointment to the 30th of June due to the fact that I am going to San Francisco is a week.
And school is almost over.
I've spent all this time being so happy that school was actually going to be over and how I'll finally be able to move on to better things, while I should have been focusing on and savoring the last few moments I'll have with all the people I won't be going to school with next year. I regret so many things now. I could have been such a better person, a better friend, to all of them, and now it's too late.
Last night I went to my school's last choir concert for the year. The majority of the ninth grade is in choir, and to see them all there, united once more as a whole, made me so depressed. I'm probably overusing commas too.
It has come to the point where people are making false promises. "Oh, we'll hang out ALL THE TIME this summer!" or "We'll keep in touch and still be friends! Don't worry!". I nod my head and agree, but deep down, I know that things won't be that way. I know that I probably won't even see them anymore. People change. Life happens. We move on. You can say all you want but deep down, you know what will really happen too.
People just change.
I knew that this was going to happen when I made the decision of what school to go to. I knew it, yet I didn't want to believe it. So, now I have to face the truth after denying it for months. My sister warned me of it. And now I truly know what she meant.
This is terribly difficult.
And all I can do is remain optimistic.
This song is exactly how I feel.
xo-Lexi
And school is almost over.
I've spent all this time being so happy that school was actually going to be over and how I'll finally be able to move on to better things, while I should have been focusing on and savoring the last few moments I'll have with all the people I won't be going to school with next year. I regret so many things now. I could have been such a better person, a better friend, to all of them, and now it's too late.
Last night I went to my school's last choir concert for the year. The majority of the ninth grade is in choir, and to see them all there, united once more as a whole, made me so depressed. I'm probably overusing commas too.
It has come to the point where people are making false promises. "Oh, we'll hang out ALL THE TIME this summer!" or "We'll keep in touch and still be friends! Don't worry!". I nod my head and agree, but deep down, I know that things won't be that way. I know that I probably won't even see them anymore. People change. Life happens. We move on. You can say all you want but deep down, you know what will really happen too.
People just change.
I knew that this was going to happen when I made the decision of what school to go to. I knew it, yet I didn't want to believe it. So, now I have to face the truth after denying it for months. My sister warned me of it. And now I truly know what she meant.
This is terribly difficult.
And all I can do is remain optimistic.
This song is exactly how I feel.
xo-Lexi
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Impacted.
I am tired. I am nervous. I am sore.
Next friday I am to go into the Oral Surgeon where he will drill a hole into the palette of the roof of my mouth. He will also lift up my gums and drill into the bone in my nasal cavity where he will extract a tooth that has been growing and moving further and further into my nasal cavity for eight years.
It will be painful.
I am frightened.
Yesterday I ran three miles. That is why I am sore.
I have taken four online tests today, which has taken a total of six hours. That is why I am tired.
I took some pictures on my friends' digital camera and she is putting them in an art show. She refuses to take them out because it is "her camera". I feel like I've been jipped completely. I guess this is what it's like to have your art stolen and used without compensation.
I now know and respect copyright laws for what they were invented for. and I hope you will too.
Also, Drew Danburry's last show ever was last week. My sister took ill, I could find no one to go with. It was awful. Now I feel as if the only local bands left are Seve vs. Evan, Fictionist and Matt Ben Jackson. You are all the local I have left! Unless I want to result in listening to the 'Pride of Utah', Royal Bliss. Don't make me do that, please.
This past week hasn't been all bad though. I finished making a scarf {post soon to come} and I got and A- on the last Geometry test before the finals next week, which is the best I have done in a long time. And to finish off tonight, I will complete reading Fahrenheit 451 and then draw. Which, surprisingly, I haven't done for over a month. It will be great to get out all this pent up creativity that has been running through my body with no outlet. And my iPod did not die while I was taking those tests today. Hooplah!
I know I keep procrastinating writing a really amazing post, and I apologize because I feel like I am letting you, the world-wide-void, down. I'm sorry void, I'm just very scattered right now.
This is one of the saddest songs I've loved in a long time, and he totally nails it in this live video.
I present, JOHN VANDERSLICE.
Deepest regards, Lexi
Next friday I am to go into the Oral Surgeon where he will drill a hole into the palette of the roof of my mouth. He will also lift up my gums and drill into the bone in my nasal cavity where he will extract a tooth that has been growing and moving further and further into my nasal cavity for eight years.
It will be painful.
I am frightened.
Yesterday I ran three miles. That is why I am sore.
I have taken four online tests today, which has taken a total of six hours. That is why I am tired.
I took some pictures on my friends' digital camera and she is putting them in an art show. She refuses to take them out because it is "her camera". I feel like I've been jipped completely. I guess this is what it's like to have your art stolen and used without compensation.
I now know and respect copyright laws for what they were invented for. and I hope you will too.
Also, Drew Danburry's last show ever was last week. My sister took ill, I could find no one to go with. It was awful. Now I feel as if the only local bands left are Seve vs. Evan, Fictionist and Matt Ben Jackson. You are all the local I have left! Unless I want to result in listening to the 'Pride of Utah', Royal Bliss. Don't make me do that, please.
This past week hasn't been all bad though. I finished making a scarf {post soon to come} and I got and A- on the last Geometry test before the finals next week, which is the best I have done in a long time. And to finish off tonight, I will complete reading Fahrenheit 451 and then draw. Which, surprisingly, I haven't done for over a month. It will be great to get out all this pent up creativity that has been running through my body with no outlet. And my iPod did not die while I was taking those tests today. Hooplah!
I know I keep procrastinating writing a really amazing post, and I apologize because I feel like I am letting you, the world-wide-void, down. I'm sorry void, I'm just very scattered right now.
This is one of the saddest songs I've loved in a long time, and he totally nails it in this live video.
I present, JOHN VANDERSLICE.
Deepest regards, Lexi
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
I'm sorry.
My lack of posting has been horrendous. Finals are almost over, I'm not really stressed. I'm just far too lazy to post one of the four posts I have been planning for nearly two weeks.
So, to lighten the mood a bit {I have been far too melancholy on this blog lately} I will post a video.
My seester, Corn, { who now has a blog that you can all access here } showed me this video, and I couldn't resist but share it with you.
A good ol' fashioned post in the near future....
-Lexi
So, to lighten the mood a bit {I have been far too melancholy on this blog lately} I will post a video.
My seester, Corn, { who now has a blog that you can all access here } showed me this video, and I couldn't resist but share it with you.
A good ol' fashioned post in the near future....
-Lexi
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Oscar Wilde, you genius, you.
Fake.
So often do I see people being tormented by its' destructive power. Fake promises all but returns none. Fake is like a comfort food--instant gratification, then turned into carb-laden waistlines. Fake grows on you and even consumes you to a point where your true self can't even stab its way through the darkness. Fake is good to us. Fake acts as a shelter, a protective mask. But why do we succumb to it? Fake doesn't make us happy. Fake doesn't make us more liked by others in the long run. Fake provides you tickets to the concert, but when you least expect it it siphons the gas out of the vehicle you would use to get there.
Fake is sneaky.
Fake finds clever ways to get inside your gut, and when there, rots your individuality and festers, only to leave your carcass behind when your meat is gone. And what for? The 'fifteen minutes of fame' Warhol promised us ?{gosh, I do reference him far too often.} No. Fifteen minutes of fame? Ha! Try fifteen minutes of fake. Fifteen minutes of your true self that is lost forever and can never be returned. You've walked across Toledo in that fake, and the fake store won't allow you to give the fake back. Even if you DO have a receipt.
THE FAKE STORE WON'T LET YOU GIVE THE FAKE BACK.
People are more likely to talk poorly of you when you are being fake rather than when you are being yourself. You know why? People don't like fakes. And all fakes are oddly duplicates of other fakes, and who wants more than one fake in the world, let alone any? Even the unique people have copycats.
Why can't people be proud of who they are? As a world, a community, a town, even a school, we all unify through life's little miracle---individualism.
unknown subheading...
Sometimes people get in a rut. Sometimes they've been fake for so long that they don't even know who their true selves are. And, contrary to popular belief, this blog post can not help you find out who your true self is. I'm a teenager. I see people constantly killing their real selves every single day. Sure, we'll never fully know who are real selves are because we are always changing. But we can try to find out more about ourselves. If we spend a few minutes to talk to our brain cells once in a while, they can tell us a whole lot about our own rot. Our views of our true selves can come one moment and change the next. It's a constant cycle--as well as a constant battle.
Life changing montage!!
For instance, I've learned more about myself in the past week then I have in my entire life. Sometimes you just meet people that do that. They unlock something inside of you that makes you see things in an entirely different way, hear things differently, look at the world around you in an entirely different perspective. One moment you can see just another Rorschach ink splatter and the next the Taj Mahal. Those kinds of people ultimately change your life. And once they do, you can never go back, and you can never forget.
I aspire to be one of those life-changers. I want people to walk up to me and then walk away a completely different person. I want to make people ponder about themselves, to stop and think of the simple things in life. I want them to question their existence and change it for the better. And do you want to know how I want to do it? All while being the utterly and profusely, boringly, me. Life changers aren't hesitant to be themselves and to express their opinions.
I strive to leave my mark in some minute non-climatic way at least once.
I hope we all strive for that. The world wouldn't be the same without each of us as individuals.
And I vow to you, dearest readers, that if you are yourself--- your TRUE self--- then your life will change. And because of that change, you may positively change the world for others around you.
I admire you, dear readers. {and not just for actually reading this BORING POST.} I admire you for your support and passion for this technological art. I admire you all as my friends, even if I don't know you, and the constant battle for individualism that we face every day. May we never fall short or stop thinking freely.
Let us all leave our mark. Because we are all unique, let us embrace it!
"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken!"-Oscar Wilde.
xoxoxo-Lexi
So often do I see people being tormented by its' destructive power. Fake promises all but returns none. Fake is like a comfort food--instant gratification, then turned into carb-laden waistlines. Fake grows on you and even consumes you to a point where your true self can't even stab its way through the darkness. Fake is good to us. Fake acts as a shelter, a protective mask. But why do we succumb to it? Fake doesn't make us happy. Fake doesn't make us more liked by others in the long run. Fake provides you tickets to the concert, but when you least expect it it siphons the gas out of the vehicle you would use to get there.
Fake is sneaky.
Fake finds clever ways to get inside your gut, and when there, rots your individuality and festers, only to leave your carcass behind when your meat is gone. And what for? The 'fifteen minutes of fame' Warhol promised us ?{gosh, I do reference him far too often.} No. Fifteen minutes of fame? Ha! Try fifteen minutes of fake. Fifteen minutes of your true self that is lost forever and can never be returned. You've walked across Toledo in that fake, and the fake store won't allow you to give the fake back. Even if you DO have a receipt.
THE FAKE STORE WON'T LET YOU GIVE THE FAKE BACK.
People are more likely to talk poorly of you when you are being fake rather than when you are being yourself. You know why? People don't like fakes. And all fakes are oddly duplicates of other fakes, and who wants more than one fake in the world, let alone any? Even the unique people have copycats.
Why can't people be proud of who they are? As a world, a community, a town, even a school, we all unify through life's little miracle---individualism.
unknown subheading...
Sometimes people get in a rut. Sometimes they've been fake for so long that they don't even know who their true selves are. And, contrary to popular belief, this blog post can not help you find out who your true self is. I'm a teenager. I see people constantly killing their real selves every single day. Sure, we'll never fully know who are real selves are because we are always changing. But we can try to find out more about ourselves. If we spend a few minutes to talk to our brain cells once in a while, they can tell us a whole lot about our own rot. Our views of our true selves can come one moment and change the next. It's a constant cycle--as well as a constant battle.
Life changing montage!!
For instance, I've learned more about myself in the past week then I have in my entire life. Sometimes you just meet people that do that. They unlock something inside of you that makes you see things in an entirely different way, hear things differently, look at the world around you in an entirely different perspective. One moment you can see just another Rorschach ink splatter and the next the Taj Mahal. Those kinds of people ultimately change your life. And once they do, you can never go back, and you can never forget.
I aspire to be one of those life-changers. I want people to walk up to me and then walk away a completely different person. I want to make people ponder about themselves, to stop and think of the simple things in life. I want them to question their existence and change it for the better. And do you want to know how I want to do it? All while being the utterly and profusely, boringly, me. Life changers aren't hesitant to be themselves and to express their opinions.
I strive to leave my mark in some minute non-climatic way at least once.
I hope we all strive for that. The world wouldn't be the same without each of us as individuals.
And I vow to you, dearest readers, that if you are yourself--- your TRUE self--- then your life will change. And because of that change, you may positively change the world for others around you.
I admire you, dear readers. {and not just for actually reading this BORING POST.} I admire you for your support and passion for this technological art. I admire you all as my friends, even if I don't know you, and the constant battle for individualism that we face every day. May we never fall short or stop thinking freely.
Let us all leave our mark. Because we are all unique, let us embrace it!
"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken!"-Oscar Wilde.
xoxoxo-Lexi
Monday, May 10, 2010
Werd to yer mothah.
A belated Mum's day poem......
Mothers are often compared to flowers in the spring.
But when I think of Mothers I think of very different things.
Mothers are often compared to seargants that organize the troops.
But when I think of Mothers I think of Warhol's "Cans of Soup"
Each 'Mother' is so different, yet their traits are all the same.
Like art, they go unrecognized, but all deserve their "fifteen minutes of fame."
Each Mother is placed so perfectly by the artist's gentle hand.
He cares for them, and tends to them until they understand---
Their purpose to the world is to make others feel and think.
To give, to love, to nourish, by the soup that others drink.
Yet linger there, dear soup cans, and let me feast upon your light.
Your simplicity is complicated, you know not your will nor right.
Your fruits are essential, you are given the final touch.
You have met the artist's vision, you are released without your crutch.
Now go, dear soup cans, and show the world--you've given it your all.
Now rise to your potential, as a creation of Andy Warhol.
The ending was lame. I know. Rats Finnigan! I'm no good at ending poems.
The end.
I guess.
Goodbye.
SOTD.
SO AMAZING.
xo-Lexi
Mothers are often compared to flowers in the spring.
But when I think of Mothers I think of very different things.
Mothers are often compared to seargants that organize the troops.
But when I think of Mothers I think of Warhol's "Cans of Soup"
Each 'Mother' is so different, yet their traits are all the same.
Like art, they go unrecognized, but all deserve their "fifteen minutes of fame."
Each Mother is placed so perfectly by the artist's gentle hand.
He cares for them, and tends to them until they understand---
Their purpose to the world is to make others feel and think.
To give, to love, to nourish, by the soup that others drink.
Yet linger there, dear soup cans, and let me feast upon your light.
Your simplicity is complicated, you know not your will nor right.
Your fruits are essential, you are given the final touch.
You have met the artist's vision, you are released without your crutch.
Now go, dear soup cans, and show the world--you've given it your all.
Now rise to your potential, as a creation of Andy Warhol.
The ending was lame. I know. Rats Finnigan! I'm no good at ending poems.
The end.
I guess.
Goodbye.
SOTD.
SO AMAZING.
xo-Lexi
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Stay away from scissors, needles, and other pointy objects.
My mind has been so scattered lately.
I've been so unambitious. All I want to do is sit in my room and read Fahrenheit 451 and write you all a really ridiculously epic blog post, which would be all fine and dandy if I didn't have to study for finals and if I had the internet.
I'm going through a rut. I'm feeling very uninspired and I can't do anything about it. All I wear is threadless t-shirts and old jeans. All I think about is how I don't understand geometry and how I wish that the school year was over. I feel so stressed. And I appreciate you all that are reading this. Thank you for letting me rant.
I want to draw something. Something really good. Something that people will be all amazed by and that they will stop and think about. I'd like that very much. If only my skills were less mediocre and I had more time to draw.
On that ranting note.
I've been sewing a lot lately. I am making a scarf completely out of yo-yo flowers. 68 flowers. Lemme tell ya. It is one of the more tedious projects I have been doing lately.
-Story time-
So, yesterday I was basting-stitching the edges of my 68 flowers, and somehow my finger got underneath the needle and....
You can conclude what happened next. Yep. I sewed my finger. It was painful. And rather odd, if I do say so.
-Story time numero dos-
My sister and I went and got pizza. When we returned, I noticed that the side door of my house was open. OPEN.
I walked in cautiously, and then realized that there was a plate if white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies on the counter.
All right people. I don't know if you realize how weird it is that someone would WALK INTO MY HOUSE while I was not there and leave a plate of cookies, and then forget to close the door.
If it was you, I would appreciate it if you would fess up.
Song of the day, perhaps?
Crazy-catchy, ridiculous haircuts, AND Canadian! What isn't to love?
Sorry. This post was really the worst post ever. I blame global warming. Or 9/11.
I've been so unambitious. All I want to do is sit in my room and read Fahrenheit 451 and write you all a really ridiculously epic blog post, which would be all fine and dandy if I didn't have to study for finals and if I had the internet.
I'm going through a rut. I'm feeling very uninspired and I can't do anything about it. All I wear is threadless t-shirts and old jeans. All I think about is how I don't understand geometry and how I wish that the school year was over. I feel so stressed. And I appreciate you all that are reading this. Thank you for letting me rant.
I want to draw something. Something really good. Something that people will be all amazed by and that they will stop and think about. I'd like that very much. If only my skills were less mediocre and I had more time to draw.
On that ranting note.
I've been sewing a lot lately. I am making a scarf completely out of yo-yo flowers. 68 flowers. Lemme tell ya. It is one of the more tedious projects I have been doing lately.
-Story time-
So, yesterday I was basting-stitching the edges of my 68 flowers, and somehow my finger got underneath the needle and....
You can conclude what happened next. Yep. I sewed my finger. It was painful. And rather odd, if I do say so.
-Story time numero dos-
My sister and I went and got pizza. When we returned, I noticed that the side door of my house was open. OPEN.
I walked in cautiously, and then realized that there was a plate if white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies on the counter.
All right people. I don't know if you realize how weird it is that someone would WALK INTO MY HOUSE while I was not there and leave a plate of cookies, and then forget to close the door.
If it was you, I would appreciate it if you would fess up.
Song of the day, perhaps?
Crazy-catchy, ridiculous haircuts, AND Canadian! What isn't to love?
Sorry. This post was really the worst post ever. I blame global warming. Or 9/11.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
An RRFM....D wishlist and a music video that will most likely make you wet yourself.
Hello, 'ello.
This weekend I have been contemplating. Writing and writing and contemplating and eating homemade guacamole {courtesy of rin-rin}. During this time, I also planned. Planned for a day in not too long in which people gather and eat casserole and give me gifts. Not my birthday, silly! The anniversary of the Romanov royal family's murder! No one survived! Not even Anastasia! For short, I shall call it RRFM....D. I know, it's pretty darn ironic that RRFM....D happens to be on my birthday, but I just think of it to be RRFM....D so I will fell less self-absorbed about telling you all of the things I want {but probably won't end up getting} for my birthday...er... RRFM....D.
Let's begin, kiddies!
Let's begin, kiddies!
- THIS HAT, DANGIT! {and maybe even the dress. If you're feeling all generous and such}
{photo courtesy of tinytoadstool.com}
2. Summertime Nerd-worthy viewing and reading materials.
{photo courtesy of Thekillersmusic.com}
{photo courtesy of chroniclebooks.com}
{photo courtesy of booksbyauthors.com}
{photo courtesy of coffeestainedpages.wordpress.com}
{photo courtesy of abc.com}
3. A new ukee-dook whom I will name Uke Ellington.
4. Mod-podge to Mod-podge my mock-docs.
5. I'm not even sure if that is how you spell Mod-podge.
6. In addition to run-on sentences, I also enjoy-hyphenating un-hyphenated-words.
7. The past two list items weren't really items.
8. Past three.
9. Past four.
10. Does this redundant monotony annoy you? Past five.
11. I couldn't help myself, you know. Six.
12. And here is the main gift that I would enjoy receiving besides little items of kitsch and knick-knackery.
Drum roll please.
{Photo courtesy of letsgodigital.org}
BAM.
Wacom Bamboo Fun drawing tablet.
Seriously. Just gaze at it. Bask in its awesomeness and pressure-sensitive pen-ness.
Ha. This is pretty much the only thing that I really really want for RRFM....D. And with a price tag of $200, it will probably be the only item that I will actually get. Which is A-okay with me. Because I want it.
Very much so, Charles.
Song of the day? A music video that will make you wet yourself with fright? Why, that seems utterly impossible Lexi. What ever do you mean?
Freaky, sterile, amoeba, techno jams for mad scientists and stop-motion enthusiasts alike. I give you...
Creeped out yet?
{Note: this RRFM....D list will most likely continue later on when I think of more things. I am very greedy. But honest, nonetheless}
xo-Lexi Vivienne
Saturday, May 1, 2010
There is dirt between the dirt.
I am sick again.
I hate my stupid immune system and my RSD. I hate Epstein-Barr. But alas, all I can do is sit here being sick, listening to more M. Ward than my sweet teen mind can handle.
Perhaps I will attempt that utterly confusing geometry homework that I so graciously received.
Perhaps I will finish watching State of Play.
Perhaps I will write a really inspiring blog post about unification through individualism.
Perhaps I will draw for Ezra. He does want me to.
Perhaps I will read Fahrenheit 451. {That book deserves and entire post to itself!}
I have a feeling that that geometry assignment will bother me relentlessly until I finish it.
argh.
I hate my stupid immune system and my RSD. I hate Epstein-Barr. But alas, all I can do is sit here being sick, listening to more M. Ward than my sweet teen mind can handle.
Perhaps I will attempt that utterly confusing geometry homework that I so graciously received.
Perhaps I will finish watching State of Play.
Perhaps I will write a really inspiring blog post about unification through individualism.
Perhaps I will draw for Ezra. He does want me to.
Perhaps I will read Fahrenheit 451. {That book deserves and entire post to itself!}
I have a feeling that that geometry assignment will bother me relentlessly until I finish it.
argh.
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