Saturday, July 18, 2009

Strawberry Avalanche - What a Nice Visual

So I'm feeling extremely claustrophobic right now.
Don't get me wrong, I've had some pretty good days - busy, with friends, hell even contributing to society volunteering my saturdays pounding nails. That was fun, I liked that. The overseer's name is Bob, as in yes Bob the Builder. He likes us, I like him. He's got really pretty blue eyes.
But still I'm feeling claustrophobic. It has something to do with my new Vietnamese shadow, the one who smiles at everything, never gives a definite opinion, and laughs at stupid things. She's sweet, in a cute, little child kind of way.
I'm sick of her.
I need my space. NOW.
And I can't get out of the house because my mom says I need to do stuff bc I'm not going to be here for 4 days and that means everyone's going to be doing my chores...a weak argument in itself bc I don't really have definite chores to begin with.

And in a week I'm going back to this place, a place I haven't seen in 2 years. It's a golden place, as fickle as a white flash of sunlight. I've been waiting forever to go, but now the excitement is fading,,, probably has something to do with the fact that I'm STILL going to be with my little smiling shadow the whole fucking time. Also, my french grandfather is dying.

Sarah has a huge bottle of vodka, she told me just this afternoon. We haven't been on the best of terms lately, mostly her fault, and she feels guilty, so now I know for sure she won't drink it without me. Ha.

***Check this and dance like a retard:
Play it for the Girls
by Danny Saucedo

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

An Old Teenager's Ultimate Love Songs

Annie
by SafteySuit

Slow Show
by the National

Blue Jeans & White T-Shirts
by Gaslight Anthem

J'ai Demandais a la Lune
by Indochine

Iris
by the Goo Goo Dolls

Escape
by Enrique Iglesias

Sweet Child O' Mine
by Guns & Roses

If You Leave
by OMD

Tech Romance
by Her Space Holiday

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Not Sure if I Can

How do you describe something that floats around your head, reoccurs in your memories, pulses through the walls and is echoed on a hundred strangers’ lips?

Thursday, June 25, 2009

I really want to push this chic off a cliff. Rhetorically.

"I guess there's no shame in getting lost, as long as you have someone to do it with."

I really like that. I like that quote a lot. Actually I did edit it a tiny bit (I added the coma, yes I did that), but besides that I just like to think about it.
Amazing quote aside, I have this friend, who maybe just might mean a LOT to me, honestly I don't think she even knows how much, and I miss her. She's dealing with a bunch of little kids, god help her...and hermit crabs, apparently.
I also have this other friend, who, as it happens, I feel the need to inspire. Let's call her Daisy. I want to push Daisy over a cliff on a bungy cord, let her bounce around there for a while, enjoying a spectacular view, and then pull her back, and then let her start her life. If she'll let me, I'll be the bungy cord..or maybe the cliff. Or maybe the person who pushes her off the cliff. Whoa that's getting a little deep even for me. Although I think I'll be the person who pushes her off... yes. That would be fun. I'm also re-decorating her room.

So on the date 6/22/09, 2 very important things happened, things that have to do with the future, and making plans (which as a rule is something I do not do). The first, fun thing is that I got contacts! Yes! I love them and feel like a superwoman,,, with x-ray vision. Or eagle vision. And I can get them in and out no problem. The second thing was not so fun, or quick.
Everybody faces stuff in life that will affect them for a long time, maybe even as long as they live. Those are big things, most of the time they're so big and important no one likes to talk about them. And with those things, occasionally you have to face them - BAM dead on, like Western duels where two cowboys turn around and shoot each other. So basically, I had to face one of those things. Not a duel.

Last but not least, I'm going to Charleston tomorrow! Yay! It's just me and my dad, which is awesome because he is so oblivious it's usually when I'm traveling with him that I get into all kinds of adventures...

Pour la moment,
Sam

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Don't Walk Your Dog

You know what sets us apart? It's the blasting music, the muffled bass thumping through the steal of the cars when you stop at a red light, and the sound seems to tangibly pulse with the summer heat. Think about it. We - the young, foolish, wild, drastic, individual, adventuring, desperate, ignorant, running, screaming - the next youth generation, we are the only ones who do that. Do you see a mom blasting music, any kind of music, in a mini van? No. Dads going to work, young entrepeneurs in buttoned shirts, middle-aged career-driven women - no one turns up the music when they're driving in their car.
But we do!
And a little bit of it is because we want to be noticed. We want people to look at us when we drive by - plus a lot of us like to sing realllly loud along with the songs. We know all the popular songs on the radio, we know all the words. Especially when summer time rolls in, the loud music becomes almost a social responsibility - it's what young people do. It's also a way of connecting with our peer people, it's a subconscious message; like yep, you do that, I do that too, we like to turn it up so loud that we can't think, and rev the engines, we don't have much to worry about, and we enjoy a lot of what we have, we're young and have got everything to look forward to, so we can sing and blast music as loud as we bloody well please.
Right now, before we get old, we are the people who blast the music in their cars. We are not the people you see walking their dogs on the sidewalks - most of the time that's the parents' thing.
So in conclusion, this summer, please, don't walk your dog. Get in the car and blast it.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

A Depressing Thought (and also Slightly Passionate)

I'll start with the depressing thought first.
Picture this scenario; there's a young man standing in a small classroom, he's talking to a class of a little under 20 kids. I say kids, ha, more like 'young adults with the work ethic and/or intelligence of adults, and even if they're not, they have little in common with kids'.
The man honestly doesnt look that much older than some of the students watching him, his skin is smooth, he's got curly caramel colored-hair cut close to his head, a circular baby face, big eyes, simple features. He uses hand motions while he talks, he's got a good voice, engaging and relatable. Right away he picks out a student to mildly poke fun of, he gains some laughs, and more importantly, the kids' attention. The class likes him, especially after the first 2 speakers (they were old, slighly crazy, the anticipated stereotype). I liked him too. Well, I didn't dislike him.
He was wearing a black polo, cheap khaki pants, and shiny shiny black shoes that looked like plastic, straight from a box. I always do that when I meet people, or even when I don't. I "scan" them, as Sarah says. With this guy, you know he's headed to a pretty stable future. He was a good speaker especially. I was zoning out a bit, but something he said brought me to the present with a bump. He was talking about writing college essays, how to use life experiences that don't necessarily have to be epic adventures.
"You all are what, 17, 16, 18 years old? Really, your lives haven't begun yet. I'm 24 years old in college, and my life hasn't begun yet."
Jesus Christ, I thought. That's depressing. 18 I understand (barely) but 24 years old? God, if your life hasn't begun by the time you're 24, when does it? When has your life begun, when you're 30 and have taxes to pay and bills and drink too much coffee and compain to your co-workers about the bags under your eyes in an office somewhere?

He shouldn't have said that. No one should say that. I understand what he's trying to say, but that doesn't mean I agree with it. He has no gaurantee he's going to be around at the time when "his life officially begins". My life started 17 years ago. It hasn't been fantastically great, but it started and it's what I've got as a springboard for the rest of whatever happens next. And this kid standing in front of us - I don't know his name, he was a speaker from Davidson - is saying that at 24 years old, his life hasn't stared yet. A quarter of the 100 possible years we humans have, eh, it was just a build-up.

Now you know one of my strongest fears. Not living. Working and working and years passing -but your life hasn't started. Christ, buddy, someone needs to take you out to stare at an ocean or something. Maybe try some absinthe.

Later,
Sam

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Insomniac? I hope not. I met one of those...

I can't sleep. I'm afraid I'm turning into an insomniac. And yes, I'm pretty sure that's something you either are or aren't, but it feels like I'm developing into one. I met an insomniac once (well, I might've met more, but this was the only one who said 'I'm an insomniac') and I have to be honest, he was a little weird. The guy's 2 front teeth were almost completely chipped off first time I met him. Thankfully the next time I saw him and hung out with him for a long period of time there were fake white teeth in there...but what a first impression, eh?

You know what's really good? (Be careful, because this can be a controversial point, a lot of my friends disagree with this). Having breakfast for dinner. And when I say breakfast, I don't mean Eggos, even though I love them, I mean traditional scrambled eggs, and bacon. I love bacon. Today I had breakfast for dinner...that's why I'm thinking about bacon and eggs at 1 in the morning. To be honest, I cheated a little, because it was only bacon, nothing else. And it was microwaved, which I don't have a problem with either, but it's not the ultimate breakfast. Sarah made it while I was upstairs in her room. She's like that; she has this hidden maternal side that comes out when you go to her house. She doesn't get lovey-dovey about it, she doesn't do it with a cute smile or anything, but all I have to do is ask and I know she'll do it. Although, it might just be for me and a select few others. Don't just walk up to her front door and be like 'hey, I heard you were hospitable. Want to make me breakfast?'
While we're on this subject, Sarah is, for the people in the world who love breakfast, a beast. Makes reallly good eggs, french toast, omelets... and other things I can't think of right now. Coffee too, but she doesn't like it much. Another reason why I love breakfast so much - while I don't have the finesse that Sarah does, breakfast food is easy to make. It just puts me in a good mood. That's probably what ended my day in a higher note than it was before. Icing on the cake - metaphorically. Breakfast and icing don't mesh and that's disgusting.
Before the bacon for dinner scenario, Sarah had come over around noon, and we needed to get out - we haven't seen each other in a while - so we went to Davidson. It was raining, and I didn't really care, but all of a sudden we're on this windy 2 lane road, just passing this big black guy in a bright orange rain jacket, waiting for the bus, and the car in front of us gets hit on the side by an oncoming car. They both slid, and the car that got hit rammed into a telephone pole. Honestly all I got from the action was hearing this loud popping sound (the car's trunk flew open), and a piece of the bumper hit my front windshield. Yeah, I saw this huge piece of black rubber suddenly fly into my windshield out of nowhere, like some psycho suicidal bird, and I start cursing and screaming. Meanwhile Sarah is hyperventilating next to me, she saw the cars actually collide. The guy waiting for the bus had his hands over his mouth with his elbows up, like in the cartoons you watched when you were little. Not funny - but in his neon slicker with this exaggerated motion, it almost was.
But no worries; we got to Davidson all safe, just in time to get soaked in the pouring rain. We went to the Summit; I love that place, we need more places like that around here. I got my usual iced coffee ( fyi, I loooove coffee. I won't elaborate, but I'm a fiend) with no sugar and only a little cream. I asked one of the guys there when the next gigs were coming up; now that it's summer, I'm going to try to actually see some of them. For those of you who are in Davidson a lot - I'm pretty sure you know the guy I'm talking about when I say the guy in dreads who works there - he's hott.
But Davidson was really nice, really chill. We went outside and of course immediately it started raining again, so we took refuge by the library and had a couple cigs, people watched, and waited (with no result) for the rain to let up, and then had to go home. The air was still damp, and heavy, you know what I'm talking about, so we went chez Sarah, and - get excited - had bacon for dinner.

Later,
Sam