spring

that time when lots of little green things hurl their bursting souls at you, and you contemplate their benefit genocide. that time when breaking branches somehow turn green, and power naps turn to time in hammocks talking.

the time when I'd like to drink iced tea with you, adding sugar on the porch. the heat doesn't stifle us inside yet, the sun still lets our skins touch without burning. green, bright and baby, leaps out the wind through us smiling. we hold our hands to the clay and sing.

dinner at my house:

dinner outside on the back porch. I sit down, wearing a cape and two pairs of plaid pajama pants. my brother, Pasty Amazing, is running around like a mad pirate.

some excerpts:

Pasty: PLATYPUS PLATYPUS!
Babs: ::sings:: Dining al fresco! Al fresco!
Me: ::harmonizes:: dining al fresco so we get cold!
Pasty: She's a vampire! that's why she won't go in the hot tub! it's full of holy water!
Slim: ::burps:: TAKE THAT!
Me: snarfle? snarfle snarfle.

god we're so insane. I love it.

trainwreck flower child

(Ally. developed in the swr darkroom)

the chemistry a.p. exam is may eleventh. I'm on the verge of tears.

corndoggie glides

Angelina Grimke

for school.

dormo

I just slept from 4pm to 10 30pm. Beautiful, beautiful sleep, I love you. I can not complain about the hours called wasted for you, delicious.

choice.

I'm not really a very politically-minded person, but I'm kind of astonished that I had no idea this was happening until some of the folks at Kempleton told me. There were supposedly over a million people involved in this pro-choice march on Washington. The sheer force of that awes me. That people really care about something. To quote Courtney of Awesome, Baby, "I love it when people give a shit."

prunes

this post from oblivio.com makes me want to cry for some reason, but it's lovely.

reve

never before in my life have I had a clear idol of a future to lean towards, an idealistic dream- what I really want. I'm having difficulty with the work that is necessary to bring me there, but the vague ideal of a goal may help me for the better.

mustang monkey

fuck, I did it again. I'm always accidentally hitting the back button and losing my post. but anyway...
tonight I shared a barroom dance floor with my parents, brother Pasty, Aunt Joanie, and my mom's crazay-awesome-middle-aged-women friends after going to the Vail-Leavitt Hall in Riverhead to see an awesome show fundraising for the Sound Symphony Project. highlights: my dad describing the perfect White Russian, drunken thirty year-old men feeling threatened by Pasty's fly moves, and the bouncer guy thinking Pasty was my child. dear god no. I love the wee pirate, but he's no fruit of my loom. but yeah, my family rocks.

23apr4

I need a nap.

working on a very long poem for a.p. comp about someplace I want to be.

I feel like listening to nine inch nails, doing inhalents, going to the mall or something. making a movie about the uninteresting.

a loss for words

a loss of words. a loss in words.

added a couple of links* instead of working on my nativism essay. maybe a couple more coming soon. my glasses are filthy. I said I was going to go to bed early tonight. but I hate going there alone. at least the sun is shiny. the beach parking lot reminded me that the winter has sapped my limited hacky sack coordination. this must be fixed.

also, someone should randomly be my date to the (las vegas themed, May 15th) junior prom*, so I actually make my awesome dress of cards.

*ben's looks kind of like a pumpkin, but it's a jellyfish, I swear.
*no offense to my date to senior prom, I feel as if I should mix things up.

retourner

so today I went to class at two different colleges*, The Heroic Age at Bard (whoa, the crazy flailing professor spoke some Norse) and Italian at SB.

Bard was really beautiful, with plants doing that whole singing-to-be-alive thing and bursting out in ways that would look awkward on me but suit them wonderfully, and pretty hipsters showing first pale skin. I spent some time with Adam and ran into Ben, and actually got a little sunburned. Exciting. (also, a couple other Bard bloggers worth checking out even though I haven't met them: Adrianne and Raizin)

So I'm almost certainly applying to Bard (fall 2005), along with Purchase, Vanderbilt, and possibly Brown, Sarah Lawrence and I don't know where else yet. I just love not having a clue what I'm going to do.

*and thanks, Brandon, for reminding me how much that sentence sucked the first time around. =P ;)

sky light sky height*

well the wave of chaos is subsiding. I spoke to my teachers on friday, and although I'm getting temporary incompletes in french, chem, american and photo, I think I can take care of everything over the next week or two.

tonight is the Destructasaurus Rex show at the public library, it should be interesting. Wooly, Jon K and that crew using old discovery channel specials and the like to make crazyness.

and tomorrow my mom and I are driving up to Bard College. I'm sure the next few days will remind me that there are truly people less enthusiastic than I am. It's been too long since I've hung around a bunch of aloof intellectuals... But really, I'm looking forward to it, Bard seems like a cool place, albeit in the middle of nowhere. I need to figure out tonight what classes I'm sitting in on Monday (and/or Tuesday) morning.

oh, and Bri now has a blog, because he's "emo like that."

must... go... outside...

*there is now a skylight over the stairs to my room, it keeps freaking me out.

puck ronk bebe

today some little bones broke, deep inside the flowering bird of my sadness. these eyes like ...queste fenestre. I found myself smiling at nothing, at everything, anything. Maybe I should've gone to school today, but maybe I just needed to sleep. And now tonight, I finish my work. I will. I must. I want to. Breathe easy, breathe deep. Keep telling yourself anything you need to hear. After this, you will know something. after this, you will be stronger. after this, you can move to nashville and start a nouveau-punck band.

what gives you butterflies?

there are dead flowers on my windowsill
bloody toothpaste on my fingers.

we learned about sonnets and their kooky rhyme schemes in kirshner's class today, I think I want to try my hand at one when I have time. also, Kirsh has laryngitis, so Comp is now being conducted is whispers.

in about two hours, as it starts to get light out, my mom's going to come downstairs and yell at me for not sleeping. she's leaving for Aunt Maddy's funeral tomorrow, coming back friday night. I want to go with her, but the quarter ends friday and I have too much to do. ::sigh:: C'est la vie. fuck. I still have a french project to do.

in an email I got today:

"3. Everything will be okay."

let's hope so, shall we?

beeeeeep

I can't stop listening to this song.

Well there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you
But remember when i moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah

and yes, I'm still awake, hours and tears later. a few pages and a few heartbreaks to show for myself. and my mother worries upstairs.

I'm talking about nuclear war

a pile of broken straws
screaming at my mother in the car
trying to explain why I'm so fucked up
why I'm broken
skirt the issues
heartsleeves ripped off, punk-ass.
safety pin me some black.

rest in peace rest in peace rest in me rest for me I need sleep but you've got it. I love you. I miss you.

my aunt Maddy died last night, and I'm selfish enough to have been going insane before that.

ooo shit!

well kids, I shouldn't be blogging right now, so I'm not really. But expect an entry or two at, say, four in the morning, because I'm not going to sleep tonight.* I can't allow myself to. I have about two and a half sane weeks worth of schoolwork to do by seven tomorrow morning. and I have Italian class tonight, so there goes productivity from 4 to 7. hmm.

my nose keeps doing this whole "I'm gonna randomly start bleeding now, bitch!" thing, and I don't think I like it. It makes me paranoid.

* I can do this now, because I think maybe my mono is gone. possibly.

oh, dear

I thought I was getting better.

I'm feeling run down, fucked up, turned in and stressed out.

I have such a mind-crushingly huge amount of work to do by wednesday morning, and more again by friday, when the quarter ends.

with every passing day the urge grows stronger to run away. to run away to that precise place, pinpointed in my daydreams, where the weather is warm and arms are welcoming.

I got my SAT I scores back, assuring me that indeed, I'm not stupid. that whatever's wrong with me, it's not that.

avast

HAPPY

BIRTHDAY LEA!

anesthesia

today I performed dissection for a hope. those tweezers that I love so, twitched in my sweating hand while I operated, the squirming wet idealism slipping in my metal grip. I don't know if these are tears or a sinus infection. dip rubber gloved hands in a bloody bucket, pull my heart out and gut it. hate it hate it hate it. take rusty scissors to these lips, they don't deserve to kiss, snip off this potential for deceit. realizing the patient has been neglected in this delightful mutilation. stab. the surgeon meditates on the whimpering subject, feeling the warm glance of the watchful man behind the glass. mortician's eyes stare into the dull and angry parallels on the table. these gloved hands drive scapels into paper-covered temples. blood pours like regret, but slower, hotter, as it slugs into her eyes behind the glasses. crimson smudged vision. her heart is bleeding from her head, but somehow she's not dead. yet.

the doctored doctor crawls to the glass. please. please please. but help's too far away, and the patient breaks, reflecting, folding in. the surgeon dies inside.

kill me, then put this empty body on a plane.

savemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesavemesaveme-

I don't want to be boring. I'd rather be dead. I don't want to be cruel, but better death than lies.

oh my god.

This year's Coachella lineup is the most incredibly orgasmic list of musicians I have ever seen. The Pixies, the Cure, Radiohead, Cursive, just so much wonderful. It makes me weep to realize that it's in California, May 1st/2nd. I want to go so badly it hurts.

caffeine overrrrdose!

last night my brother and I formed a noise-making force of unstoppable.... force, Pasty Power 9000. PP9K for short. the recordings, the jewel of which is "Coffee Is Your Master," are on audio cassette (I know, it's fun though), but at some point we'll maybe get some stuff online, which would rule. also, he got his first pair of Converse Chucks today. black hightops. I'm so proud. now I must make him (even more of) a Sonic Youth fan.

also, speaking of shoes, mine (with my foot in it) was wedged under the wheel of a moving car earlier. that sucked. on the bright side, I have a lovely purple rosebud shape on my foot now.

apology: once and future

okay, so maybe I can't do this
my heart's apologetic
and I swear it's not your fault
my love's apocalyptic

yeah, I laugh at all the jokes
cuz they're funny
yeah, I blushingly agree
cuz I have no money

I guess my hand was meant for leashes
not interlacing
and my heart was meant for leeching
not communicating

yeah, there's a smile in my kiss
but not in my eyes
yeah, there's something behind it
but this isn't mine

I can never seem to have
just the thing I wanted
I can never seem to dream
of the eyes that haunted

me in tormented sighs
when I want forever
but this my true desire
taunts with the thought of never

oh yeah I'll plan my hopes
I'll mark my calendar
oh no I know the ropes
know what it's like to be far

and now I'll learn to place an hourglass on a breaking heart
and I'll learn to not let true love tear me true apart

/en

some things about me are borrowed
or stolen
half-remembered thief, trying to recall
and give then,
all back to where they belong
where they ken

so I’ll strip down
to nothin
mannerism speech flick
like clothin
I’m betting on my biddin
I’m sheddin

halloween costume, tags still on
so silken
like a metal prom dress, never returned
now broken
the clown shakes his head at me
dissenten

stitch on your lipstick, red thread
now woven
tie on eyelashes, string up voice
for your men
low soft purring sound
sweet kitten

never noway nohow not no baby
I’ll let letters live my life for me
never noway nohow not no baby
I’ll sing my sonnets, plainly

Congra.... ::sob::

thanks Brandon, for the link that broke my heart. Beck is getting married (and not to me). I'm happy for him, but this means I need a new celebrity to fantasize about. any suggestions?

wig fetish

the dream I had last night:

I'm standing on a submerged balcony in a large swimming pool, wearing an animal print (it looks like zebra with the colors of a jaguar) bikini. Two girls to my left are making fun of my friend's ex-girlfriend, who is standing nearby, doing the sort of leg stretch movements we did in that learning-to-swim class in preschool. I ask someone what time it is, it's 1 AM. I walk out of the pool, saying "I'm just gonna go have dinner then come back." I have the distinct feeling that this is a prom, but in a swimming pool and apparantly no guys are there. I walk away from the pool, and am suddenly dry, fully clothed in a goth-punk-grunge type outfit, and walking down a hallway in my highschool. I grab a slice of pizza from some administrator's desk, then go down to the cafeteria. The chairs and tables have all been moved, and there is a large canopy bed with many veils and draperies around it. My science teacher from freshman and sophomore year is standing around near the outside door, and she says something polite, smiling. I reply, then go back upstairs. I remember someone saying to me that, "because it's Easter, nobody is watching and so the characters act differently." I pass a desk with weird lights floating above it, and a melodramatic man reciting something. I go to B-wing, and somehow stumble into a convention of men with a fetish for the Victorian era. They are completely aghast at my presence, astonished at my fishnet shirt and torn jeans. I ask them how to get away, and they point long, pale, long-nailed fingers in varying directions. I follow them in a sort-of-circle, then finally wander away, embarassed.

babs in cali

just so you all know how awesome my mom is, this past weekend she was hanging out with Jeff Buckley's mom, Mary. She's apparantly a really nice lady.

that second gear

so, thanks to the most hardcore El Salvadorian ever, I now have a deck in my backyard, and will soon have a new grill and a hot tub. You guys know what this means- a new deck/how many people fit into a hot tub party. Dunno when this is going down, probably in the summer sometime, still some construction left to be done.

I don't know if you realize how much I love decks. They are just... so wonderful. Sitting in the sun, with your feet dangling off the edge into the shadow, your best friends perched in the hammock, Sublime playing in the background... yes.

?

oh, the template insanity.

4/5/94

Come doused in mud, soaked in bleach
As I want you to be
As a trend, as a friend, as an old memoria
Memoria

I'm sure there are a million posts out there like this. But I can't help myself. Too many memories, laying splayed out on someone's bed, someone's messy carpet, cramped in the backseat of Shulo's jeep, on the way to some predictable local show, with Nirvana blasting, all of us screaming along.
As presumptuous as it may be, rest in peace.

nightmares and doorways

my back screen door, the one beyond the wooden barrier, has gone evil. it keeps wrenching itself away from the latch, slamming against the outside wall, then smashing back into place. it elicits screams from this jumpy child, who recalls years of nightmares focused on that back door. That square of darkness leading out into the unknown. all the while a buzzing from the draft-preventing tape along the top of the doorframe. like the sound of a million killer bees, with wings the size of demon dicks. It scares me. I'm weakhearted, jumpy. I'm afraid something is going to break. These sounds are so destructive.

And so I spend my night.

intertwined, like lianas divine

my mom, Barbara Branca, recently recorded a song about Buzios, Brazil. This was done in the Seattle studio of her long-time friend, Barry Gordon, who also helped work on the piano arrangment, which my mother wrote the basics of. This version is missing the tag ending, but oh well. I figured out how to get it online, thanks to Sean and Kempleton.com. So here it is, shmaltz and all. Hopefully this doesn't put stress on their bandwidth or something, if it does I'll take it down.

Selfafornia

lounged around all day. got out of bed at dusk. took some pictures. the excitement. Now, since my life is currently boring, I will talk about how great something else is.

I need to you guys aware of Self, an absolutely awesome band from Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Props to Brandon for telling me about them a few months ago. You can download tons of their stuff from selfies.com, so you should go do that now. You might recognize the song Meg Ryan, the single from Breakfast with Girls.

Palm trees and sand and hawaiian instruments
Say "Aloha" as they're haunting me
I want time, kicking, screaming, put to death
Float like islands in the pool
While Mr. T pitties the fool

Now go download.

...like a sea stick!

so tonight began my Spring Break. woo! I should be shaking my ass in a string bikini, or something. but anyway, tonight was awesome. Hung out with Courtney, Denise, and Emily (I love the alphabetizement!) all of whom I hadn't seen in ages. Had Japanese food (seastick with that?) and made pretty paper stars and played DDR. I sucked at it, but it officially must somehow become my new hobby, it's great. also, Courtney and I devised a master plan for my hair if I ever can let it grow a little longer. (approx. the length of a sea stick?) fun stuff. I realize this is the kind of typical, uninteresting, today-I-woke-up-ate-toast-did-this-that type entry, but I needed it. And now, a nap.

oh, and for an ap chem assignment, I need to do some basic research on an element, and Mercury is already chosen and I don't know what to pick. Any recommendations? I need to scope some elements out and e-mail my choice to the Klein-ster.