Continuing on the Weird Dream Path...

Last night, I dreamed I went camping with some of my friends, except my family was suddenly there too... and they were like YOU CAN'T LIVE WITH YOUR FRIENDS THIS IS OUR CAMPING TRIP. And then we lived in these cabins which were, like, infested with frogs. The frogs were generally okay -- they ate all the mosquitoes -- but they also just would take our stuff and hide it which was annoying. But then I made friends with one of the frogs and it would let me rub its belly and it would smile and I KNOW FROGS DON'T HAVE TEETH but this one did for smiling!

I want a frog.

The fact that I do not have a smiley belly frog has been upsetting me all day.

Parallel Parking Makes My Dreams

Last night, I had a crazy dream that I was cast in a musical as the female lead with one of my younger friends from high school, who played my male lead counterpart. Everyone was so impressed and kept telling me what a great singer I was (I'm not), but the catch of being involved in the musical was that I had to be able to parallel park (which I can't do). There was a lot of struggle and tears over trying to parallel park while also learning songs and lines and costumes. And then amidst another parking failure, my Hall & Oates "You Make My Dreams" alarm went off and I awoke not in my room (I was bunking elsewhere with a friend for the night). It was all very disorienting and upsetting and it has thrown off my whole day.

I have now locked myself on the third floor of our library to work on reading my 1000 page history textbook that I need to catch up on in order to write a paper on it this weekend. If entries become scarce, please contact sources to make sure I have not starved to death or died of boredom.

Many thanks.

My Life is Mean Girls

I far too frequently liken my life to Mean Girls. Whether this means that I don't know how to relate to real people so I in turn relate to fictional stories, or Mean Girls is just a super accurate film to how girls relate to one another.

I've been going through a lot of stress lately, including but not limited to:

+ family

+ friends

+ my (nonexistent except totally confusing anyway) love life

And stress is a weird thing for me. I get a little snappy when I'm angry, but when I'm stressed-stressed, I just kind of become a turtle and get all like, "bitches, back off" and go inside my shell and don't deal with anyone very well. But I try to be supportive of other people when they get stressed. I'm kind of not really good at sympathy, only because I don't like it when people feel sorry for me, so why would someone want me to feel bad for them? But one of the things I like the least about people is when they are unnecessarily hateful or judgmental and go, "It's not my fault; I'm stressed."

That is not an excuse. It's very similar to another form of "apologizing" that I hate, which is, "I'm sorry you feel that way." Neither is apologizing. I can't stand it when people can't own up to issues. I'm guilty of this too, but I try to not make excuses when I'm an asshole. (I mean, I'm also naturally an asshole so this doesn't come up a lot.) But while I may be going through a lot, and someone is going through more, that does not give them an excuse to attack me.

In turn, I felt near nervous breakdown last night, and after snapping at one of my best friends (and then showing up at his room this morning, nearly in tears -- passing it off as "allergies" -- to apologize), I realized that I just need to remove myself. It's like Lindsay Lohan wisely said, "You need to suck out the poison." I didn't really suck the poison so much as just get rid of it. I went through my contacts and anyone who I just do not have the patience or the heart to deal with, I blocked. I called my mother and told her that even though she was stressed -- about really serious issues, too -- that she still needs to listen to me when I call. I just need someone to listen. I told my best friend(s) from home what was happening and I needed them to be patient.

I sucked out the poison, stitched up the wound, and moved on.

I'm hoping for a brighter week, and then I can hopefully unblock those people and learn how to help them through their stress too.

P.S. I have formspring?

Ack!

Ever spent your night with 300-400 considerably trashed individuals when you are so incredibly sober that you remember everything in vivid detail? I have now.

When I'm drunk, there's nothing I love more than hanging out with other drunk people. I'm unnaturally affectionate when I'm intoxicated... but when I'm not? I am an asshole. In turn, I had to put up with that last night, ranging from being kissed, to being fallen on, to being spilled on, to having to babysit drunk people as we watched naked people run up and down the quad.

I went to bed around 2:30am with a pounding headache, hoping to just put an end to a night that I didn't want to have in the first place. My beautiful, glorious sleep was ruined at 3am, when, as one of my friends said, "The world was screaming." I don't know how it happened, but some asshole either pulled or set off the fire alarm. We filed out of the dorm in the freezing rain and had to wait outside for the "OK" to get back into our dorm. I had never hated life so much more than as I stood outside, pounding headache persisting, still incredibly sober and angry.

Dumb.

I'm a little nervous for this upcoming week. I have yet another history paper to write -- actually I have a history paper due every other week for the rest of this quarter -- and I'm behind on reading this time. ACK.

NO PANTS DAY FOR EVERYONE!!!!

Remember when I got really whiny about my history paper in this post and no one cared? Me too, but that's not the point. The point is that I actually ended up getting an A on said paper, so NO PANTS DAY FOR EVERYONE!!!

But in all seriousness, I was very much ;ALKDFJA;SDKF!!! yesterday. The professor wrote in his grading: "Apart from a few stylistic infelicities, this is a model of what a paper like this should be: the vigorous and convincing defense of a point of view, continued with the effective use of specific evidence in defense of said argument. Nice work. A."

Translation: "You suck at editing, but that's about it! Awesome."

SO HAPPY. SERIOUSLY.

Less happy about my inability to drink for the next week, still. Tonight is supposed to be one of the biggest party weekends here on campus, and I am still be treated for a sinus infection. Aaaaagh, the prices we pay to stay healthy.

Useless Entry #1

My piano instructor warned me at the start of lessons this past quarter that I "might get sick of ragtime" at some point during the quarter. While I don't think this is true for me, it's probably true for her. But she suggested I should probably work on some classical pieces as well. Today I got assigned Mozart's Sonatina in C Major, which is actually pretty famous, so I was hoping to find a good Youtube recording of it to put on here. Upon searching Youtube, I realized that all of the good recordings were of 7 year old Asian prodigies playing this piece. And then I got really self-conscious because I didn't want to post one of those videos on here and be like, "Sorry i'm not a prodigy and in turn, have not already played this piece, okay?!?"

And then I cried.

I was supposed to do a lot of reading today, but then I got stressed. Sometimes I find it's better to just not force myself into doing a lot of work and go take a nap rather than do work. I get behind but then at the same time, I also don't hate myself. Thoughts?

This entry is stupid. I apologize.

Creepy Econ major in my workshop group judged some girl for writing a poem that discussed drunken conversations with boys (non-autobiographical) so I'm really happy that I chose to not write about sex.

Sex Failure

I am trying to write a poem that discusses sex. Here are the reasons I can't:

People in my workshop group:

- Girl #1 who speaks too loudly and has constantly surprised eyebrows

- Girl #2 who does not speak

- Girl #3 who has thus far only written poems about a) secrets she has regarding boys or b) flowers or c) singing or d) memories about singing with flowers in her hands

- Boy #1 who is an Economics major and wears ties to class and makes me incredibly uncomfortable because when I wrote that poem about cowboys and used the phrase "bosoms," he called me out on and said he loved bosoms

- Boy #2 who is a pitcher for our baseball team and probably the most normal

I just can't do it. I cannot talk about sex with these people! a;dflkj;sdafk

Computer Complaints (and other stories)

Reason Why I am Destined for Hell #1

I forgot to mention in yesterday's post that during a conversation I had with my orchestra director, he said the following to me:

"Don't worry, I trust your opinion."

Later in the rehearsal, the violin section was bitching (a standard orchestra event, really) about having a difficult part that was, if anything, a very minor supporting part. Our director said to this complaint, "I know, I know, the standard musicians' complaint: Why are we working so hard if no one is listening? But we don't have time for existential questions right now..." and then he laughed.

SATAN, I TELL YOU.

+++

In other news, my laptop has not been functioning as of late. I have a Dell Studio, for those of your who are wondering. This is my second Dell laptop, and needless to say, my first one was not much better. But for the third time since purchasing this laptop, which I affectionately call Basil, its speakers are broken. The headphone jacks work, which I guess serves me for now, but it's still frustrating. I can still accomplish all the means I actually need: word processing and listening to music and internet access. BUT STILL. Quality of life-wise? Now I can't blast music when I'm getting dressed in the morning.

Another thing that annoyed me about this was my phone call with Dell Support. I mean, they were nice and charming, but they also totally doubted my ability (as do most of my friends, to be fair) to handle computer problems.

Dell: So I'm just uninstalling and reinstalling the drivers.

Me: Yeah, I've done that twice already.

Dell: So we're going to do that.

[30 minutes later]

Dell: Now I want to do a System Restore back to last Friday.

Me: I did that on Sunday.

Dell: Great. So let's do that.

I KNOW HOW TO FIX A COMPUTER! And then they proceeded to tell me that it was clearly a PC/hard drive problem, and that in order to fix it, I need to back up all of my files and documents so they can totally wipe Basil's memory. It's not a system problem! I am convinced that this is a hardware issue. And they just did not acknowledge that.

I'm thinking about getting a Mac. Don't hate me.

Failure of American Democracy (see: Fox)

I'm working on my first major history paper of the quarter right now. It sucks. And it's due tomorrow.

Things I'm Going to do Once this Paper is Done

1). Paint my nails

2). Run around without pants

3). Catch up on my 30948 pages of reading I'm supposed to be doing.

4). All of my other work

5). Watch Lost

6). Not watch American Idol

Things I'm Actually Going to do Once this Paper is Done

1). Paint my nails

2). Watch Lost

3). Not watch American Idol

I seriously hate American Idol. It's not really a reality tv hate-related thing. I don't really mind reality tv (I really like The Amazing Race). American Idol bothers me for two reasons:

1). It is glorified karaoke.

2). It is proof as to why proper democracy fails.

Regarding my first point, I would contest that there are really not very many incredibly talented people on American Idol. Talented, sure, I guess. But there are so many people who can sing! It's not a ridiculous talent to have. So they find some people who are pretty good at singing. I would go out on a limb to say that most of the winners have been pretty mediocre. There is a soft spot in my heart for Kelly Clarkson ("My Life Would Suck Without You" will always be one of my jams) and Jennifer Hudson (who did not win, but is from Chicago, and actually pretty fucking talented). But otherwise, meh. Seriously. Who was that Taylor guy who won with the grey hair? Where the fuck is he now? I wanna know.

The second point is my actual point. Democracy sucks. I mean, I'm by no means a Communist or a Socialist or a Fascist or anything nuts. I approve of America running on a democracy, but there are some checks and balances to our democracies. No one in government "votes for the worst" unless we're talking about Rod Blagojovich. But everyone loves the "vote for the worst" concept in American Idol (see: Sanjaya and everyone else). America supposedly picks someone they find to be talented and that person gets a record deal. It is a giant popularity contest, as I guess politics are in a way as well, but on a similar note, it encourages musicians to not work as hard because maybe they can just "catch a break." The musicians I respect in the music industry (which is few) generally made it on their own terms. Lady Gaga, as ridiculous as she is, is self-made.

I guess I am so bitter because someone from my hometown is currently competing on my show. I do not feel obligated to watch because of this, nor do I feel obligated to like him. He got kicked out of my high school, and now my high school is treating him like one of our most precious alumni. That's stupid. STOP SUCKING UP, MY HIGH SCHOOL. It wouldn't be new for us. But, it's just like, stop fucking inviting me to Facebook groups to get together with all my friends and vote for him. I just do not give a fuck. I also maintain that given the direction he was going in prior to American Idol, he probably would have "made it" to some degree anyway.

So, does this make me an apathetic non-voter, the kind that our country (and my mom) hates? Maybe. This is probably how that happens in democracy. There are voters who go, "wow our government is pretty fucked up and I don't even care anymore. I'm not voting."

Anyway, all government/reality tv shit aside, I need to finish this paper so I can paint my nails a vibrant shade of pink tomorrow and feel as obnoxious as I want. Which I will.

A Brief Discourse on a Band I Like

Last night, I saw OK Go in concert at the Metro on the north side of Chicago.

Before I detail the experience, I'd like to preface a bit about the band itself by telling a quick story about an incident I had on campus this past Friday. I was speaking with some friends who are international students from South America about my weekend plans.

Me: Oh, I'm going to Chicago to see a concert.

Them: Who?

Me: OK Go.

Them: ....

Girl: Oh... so.... is that a local band?

Me: Ehhh, yes and no? They are from Chicago, but they're pretty well known here for their videos that go viral on Youtube and stuff.

Girl: Ohhh... ummm... cool...

Guy: What is Youtube?

He was kidding. Because the international students like to pretend that they are as ignorant as Americans are about things they find obvious. (Sorry I don't know where Ecuador is without Google Maps. Sue me.)

Anyway, OK Go is a local Chicago band that started up in '02. Their first self-titled album hit in '02, the big hits from it being "Get Over It" (everyone's favorite middle school angry song), "Don't Ask Me" (the Target commercial music video).

From there, they sort of played around local venues. They essentially "made it" in 2005 when they released the following video that I'm sure everyone and their mother has seen by this point. I began liking them towards the end of '04, at the start of eighth grade. Anyway, their second album which came out in the fall of '05, "Oh No," was huge. They did a live treadmill dance at the VMAs. It was epic.

They've been off the market for a while, but most recently released an album this past January through EMT. That being said, they left EMI in March (I think), and are going to be re-releasing the album sometime soon apparently under their own personal record label. Their big hit off this most recent album, "Of the Blue Colour of the Sky," was "This Too Shall Pass." I would also like to think that everyone and their mother has seen this video.

Anyway, their concert was spectacular. This was the second concert I've been to, like, in my life, and the first concert was one I don't really talk about. But if you know the Metro, you know it's a small and very personal venue, and it was, in turn, a very small and personal show. The lead singer, Damian, told stories about being back in Chicago, about the Cubs, about drunken Cubs fans, about college, etc. They played songs off of all their albums and we got a solid hour and a half's worth of music. When the band went to take a break midway through, Damian came out into the crowd (I was less than two feet away from him ald;fkjasdf) and did a solo song on acoustic guitar. It was just so much fun. I can hardly even articulate how much fun it was.

What I really just like about OK Go is that they're a small band but they don't have that "small band" attitude. Like, "oh, you like us and we're so obscure, watch us play a small venue and be so alternative." They acknowledge that they are small and while they do things that garner media attention, they don't let it get to them. The lead singer has written a NY Times editorial about the music industry and Youtube. They left their record label on account of their fans. They just seem to be nice musicians (which means a lot to me, because I consider myself to be a musician) who like what they do and like the people who support them. They get a lot of flack on a celebrity gossip site for being "one hit wonders," and maybe they are and maybe they aren't, but from what I could tell, they have a loyal, however small, fanbase that they care about. To close, I'd like to add that I got a chance to meet/hug/flail over Damian outside the stage door after the concert.

Me: Hi.

Damian: Hi, I'm Damian. What's your name?

Me: I'm Fran.

Damian: Well, hello, Fran!

Me: I just wanted to tell you that I've been a fan since '04 --

Damian: Wow, thank you so much!

Me: -- and this is the first show where I haven't been out of town or camping in Canada or under-aged or --

Damian: You're telling me. Every show we play in Chicago, we call your mom, and we're like "Is Fran gonna be there?" and she's always like, "No, sorry, maybe next time..." and we're always kinda sad so we schedule more shows in Chicago and then you don't come. You have made us very sad, sometimes, Fran.

Me: But here I am!

Damian: I know! Here you are! But in all seriousness, we are grateful for your support. The fact that you've waited six years to just see us in concert means a lot. It's fans like you that we appreciate the most.

Me: *swoons*

Damian: And hey -- are you in school?

Me: Yeah.

Damian: Okay, great, well, because we'll be back in December, and you'd better be there.

Me: Yeah, awesome, I'll be home.

Damian: Good! See you then, Fran!

And then he proceeded to take a picture with me as well as give me a hug. And I essentially died.

Please Bring Your Souls to the Next Rehearsal

So I have this working theory -- one of many, actually -- that my orchestra director in college is Satan in human form. Not, like, actual Satan. I want to make that clear so we don't get confused from the start here. Just Satan if he were to inhabit the Earth in order to do a bunch of evil shit and create things like that sandwich at KFC that doesn't have bread (why, Satan??!).

(Sidenote: My friends in high school were convinced that our orchestra director was Satan in that case, too. From further studies, I have concluded that he's just a douchebag.)

Imagine, if you will, what Satan would look like in human form. I asked my friends at college this, and this is what I got:

Friend #1: Uh, red?

Friend #2: Does he have a tail?

Friend #3: He's probably got a pitchfork.

Me: A;LFKDJSLFK I'M TALKING ABOUT SATAN IN HUMAN FORM! STUPIDS!

So imagine Satan in human form. He's probably tall, definitely brunette, because God in human form is definitely a blonde. He's probably got one of those low commanding voices. He's probably kinda spindly and thin. I've never thought of Satan as one of those muscle-types. He's like the weaker guy who always makes fun of you, and you're like, "Why, bro? There's nothing to you." I dunno. Last and least, he is DEFINITELY attractive. Like, how could he not be? He has to be the tempter of all sin-related things. He's gotta be hot, but in, like, an evil way. Where you're swooning but you're like, "....waaaaait a minute, this feels anti-virtuous..."

But THAT is exactly what my college orchestra director is like. He's well-educated (Ivy League grad), attractive, talented, but also terrifying. Also he may or may not sign emails with "PS Please bring your souls to the next rehearsal. Noms."

May or may not.

Anyway, I feel like I should maybe be concerned for my eternal soul, but I'm also Jewish. So I guess I'll just wait to see what happens.