About Me
- Sharlovely
- El Segundo
- Make art not war. I drink copious amounts of tea. Slaughterhouses make me cry. I am obsessed with food, and as such, I eat constantly. Music makes me loose control.
Two Bands I Can Not Stand, But Pandora Insists on Playing Anyway..
The Strokes and The Killers. Two bands that come up TOO FUCKING OFTEN on my Pandora playlists because I like that overall genre of music and have too many "similar band" stations.
I actually used to love the The Stokes once upon a time. Went through a mini-obsession actually. But sadly, one day I woke up and decided that my love for Fabrizio Moretti, Nick Valensi, and Albert Hammond Jr, (and the remaining bandmate whose name I can't remember) had died, in retrospect, most likely due to overkill.
And there was that thing that one boy said, but let's not get into that because I want to ride the high as long as I can.
*insert sarcastic and bitter sneer here*
The Killers.
Once upon a time I thought they were fantastic. I remember when they first started out I felt so smug because I knew about a great band that no one else did. Hahaha, dear (proverbial) god, I've always been a music snob, haven't I?
I probably dislike them because they're so fucking mainstream now.
What a douchebag.
Nay, douche-nozzle.
Now my gift for you for reading the shizz above:
(the unremixed version is better but this is much more upbeat)
I actually used to love the The Stokes once upon a time. Went through a mini-obsession actually. But sadly, one day I woke up and decided that my love for Fabrizio Moretti, Nick Valensi, and Albert Hammond Jr, (and the remaining bandmate whose name I can't remember) had died, in retrospect, most likely due to overkill.
And there was that thing that one boy said, but let's not get into that because I want to ride the high as long as I can.
*insert sarcastic and bitter sneer here*
The Killers.
Once upon a time I thought they were fantastic. I remember when they first started out I felt so smug because I knew about a great band that no one else did. Hahaha, dear (proverbial) god, I've always been a music snob, haven't I?
I probably dislike them because they're so fucking mainstream now.
What a douchebag.
Nay, douche-nozzle.
Now my gift for you for reading the shizz above:
(the unremixed version is better but this is much more upbeat)
Internerd-dom Has its Advantages
Like bonding with some random stranger's postsecret.com confessions. This is the only one I had balls to put up though.
A Question for the Ages
"If he's [Mr. Fantastic] made of rubber, does he ever get hard...and can he make it longer?"
- Kyra Kudravy
- Kyra Kudravy
Pahahaha
I find it highly amusing that all my daydreams concerning my impending relocation to New Zealand fail to include actually going to school and attending school. They all involve socializing, traveling, and more socializing.
Lulz, daddy dearst would blow a fuse... XD
(Currently listening to an awesome smash up of Bloc Party and DFA 1979 - Luno)
Lulz, daddy dearst would blow a fuse... XD
(Currently listening to an awesome smash up of Bloc Party and DFA 1979 - Luno)
Slumdog Millionaire
Good Movie.
Nay, Great Movie.
(It even had a Bollywood dance number at the end!!!)
It's been a while since I've been actually spiritually moved by a film. Or cried while watching for that matter. Yes, I hate to admit it but I spent the majority of the first hour crying on and off.
Poor (financially speaking or otherwise) children always get to me. Though it might have been because the kid reminded me of Elvin D:
Nay, Great Movie.
(It even had a Bollywood dance number at the end!!!)
It's been a while since I've been actually spiritually moved by a film. Or cried while watching for that matter. Yes, I hate to admit it but I spent the majority of the first hour crying on and off.
Poor (financially speaking or otherwise) children always get to me. Though it might have been because the kid reminded me of Elvin D:
Stars Among Planets
I feel like there are certain people in life that in memories will shine brighter than others, and no dipshit, I do not mean family and close friends.
In my case, looking back at all my eighteen years of memories, there are three people from my childhood and three people of my recent past that stand out (Lets call them persons A through F).
Some of these people have geniunely affected my life, and some are just lost friends/aquaintances that randomly find themselves in my thoughts. All are people I don't think I will ever forget.
Person A: Matt Something from kindergarten - he had Patrick Dempsy like hair but was blonde. He was also very flamboyant and my first crush. What is noteworthy is that I can't imagine him growing up. When I try to do so, he grows up to be a cokewhore and a wasted individual. I don't try anymore.
Person B: Kymberly Something from standard one - a very shy little girl. Also one of the nicest girls I had ever met. I distinctly remember that she would wear a pink headband with a bow and a cream coloured cardigan. I think I googled her once and actually found her. I am so creepy. (OH, and I wrote a journal entry about her when I first came to the States, and I remember the teacher absolutely refused to accept her name spelling, told me I spelled it wrong, and made me change it while simultaneously sparking the breaking of the spirit).
Person C: Anita the Korean girl - She wasn't a mean girl, but she gave me my first taste of how mean the world could be when she told me my religion wasn't real and that Christianity was the only real and true religion in the world. I was six. And left very confused as religion was crucial to my being at that age. It wasn't all bad, as it gave me my favorite memory of my grandfather (to whom I confided and who comforted - without condemning/speaking negatively of her in any way).
Person D: Kay - Sure she's a close friend, but even if we were to loose touch I would never be able to forget her. Not until after 2027. (NOT a random year).
Person E: That foreigner that got deported - I feel like we will be friends for a long time to come. Arguing for most of that time, but underneath it all, there is an inexplicable understanding. Even when certain phrases won't translate.
Person F: Juan McSexonlegs - the infatuation is still there. I find myself randomly making up scenarios in my head in which we run into each other in the far future (or I contact him) we hit it off. Troubling though are the characteristics my imagination has chosen for him...miserable, lonely, suicidal, alcoholic, etc. I also randomly wonder if he's alive because he has to be or because he wants to be.
In my case, looking back at all my eighteen years of memories, there are three people from my childhood and three people of my recent past that stand out (Lets call them persons A through F).
Some of these people have geniunely affected my life, and some are just lost friends/aquaintances that randomly find themselves in my thoughts. All are people I don't think I will ever forget.
Person A: Matt Something from kindergarten - he had Patrick Dempsy like hair but was blonde. He was also very flamboyant and my first crush. What is noteworthy is that I can't imagine him growing up. When I try to do so, he grows up to be a cokewhore and a wasted individual. I don't try anymore.
Person B: Kymberly Something from standard one - a very shy little girl. Also one of the nicest girls I had ever met. I distinctly remember that she would wear a pink headband with a bow and a cream coloured cardigan. I think I googled her once and actually found her. I am so creepy. (OH, and I wrote a journal entry about her when I first came to the States, and I remember the teacher absolutely refused to accept her name spelling, told me I spelled it wrong, and made me change it while simultaneously sparking the breaking of the spirit).
Person C: Anita the Korean girl - She wasn't a mean girl, but she gave me my first taste of how mean the world could be when she told me my religion wasn't real and that Christianity was the only real and true religion in the world. I was six. And left very confused as religion was crucial to my being at that age. It wasn't all bad, as it gave me my favorite memory of my grandfather (to whom I confided and who comforted - without condemning/speaking negatively of her in any way).
Person D: Kay - Sure she's a close friend, but even if we were to loose touch I would never be able to forget her. Not until after 2027. (NOT a random year).
Person E: That foreigner that got deported - I feel like we will be friends for a long time to come. Arguing for most of that time, but underneath it all, there is an inexplicable understanding. Even when certain phrases won't translate.
Person F: Juan McSexonlegs - the infatuation is still there. I find myself randomly making up scenarios in my head in which we run into each other in the far future (or I contact him) we hit it off. Troubling though are the characteristics my imagination has chosen for him...miserable, lonely, suicidal, alcoholic, etc. I also randomly wonder if he's alive because he has to be or because he wants to be.
Character...
Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.
- Author Unknown
- Author Unknown
Oh, sad day...
Top Chef is one of my favorite shows. I love watching (almost) every aspect of the show. I watch repeat episodes happily. I'll sit in front of the telly and watch six hour marathons without realizing where the time went.
However in tonight's episode, they went to a farm to pick up their ingredients. Including the meat ("protein") ingredients.
Yep, right before they slaughtered the animals to put in their pots and pans, they got to do a little meat (oh sorry, I meant meet) and greet with their ingredients/poor defensive less little animals raised to die. (Well, technically they met the family and friends of the unfortunate few who got fed to Padma and Tom's guests.)
So sad.
D:
However in tonight's episode, they went to a farm to pick up their ingredients. Including the meat ("protein") ingredients.
Yep, right before they slaughtered the animals to put in their pots and pans, they got to do a little meat (oh sorry, I meant meet) and greet with their ingredients/poor defensive less little animals raised to die. (Well, technically they met the family and friends of the unfortunate few who got fed to Padma and Tom's guests.)
So sad.
D:
QT(s)
When I am in Italy, I will track down this very bug and take this exact picture.
Then the driver will drive me to the nearest soccer stadium, where ideally I will run into Fabio Cannavaro or Monica Belluci. :D
(Do Vegans Take Honeymoons?)
If I ever get married (37!), I have a wonderful honeymoon spot in mind. (Fuck what my spouse may think about it).
Port Louis. The capital of Mauritius. An teensy weensy lil island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
Why you ask? Because of Ian from Globetrekker. (HE ROX MY SOX :D)
But seriously, I really want to go there. It has sepped into the top of my list of places to venture about in before I kick the bucket.
Not only does it have the sea and the mountains, but due to the conquistadors, imperialists, and the french, the island is home to a multitude of cultures, as well as a hybrid culture. The vast majority of the people have Indian features (dot not feather; hahaha, I'll fit in nicely), and the Indian culture in general has been a great influence. (Ian was eating puri from a kiosk!)
And the best bit? It was home to the Dodo bird. :D
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Louis
Port Louis. The capital of Mauritius. An teensy weensy lil island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
Why you ask? Because of Ian from Globetrekker. (HE ROX MY SOX :D)
But seriously, I really want to go there. It has sepped into the top of my list of places to venture about in before I kick the bucket.
Not only does it have the sea and the mountains, but due to the conquistadors, imperialists, and the french, the island is home to a multitude of cultures, as well as a hybrid culture. The vast majority of the people have Indian features (dot not feather; hahaha, I'll fit in nicely), and the Indian culture in general has been a great influence. (Ian was eating puri from a kiosk!)
And the best bit? It was home to the Dodo bird. :D
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Louis
Good Stuff Has Good Stuff
JK, I actually <3 them.
OMG SHOES!
It seems I spent the day finding the loveliest things. Of course, I didn't have any money to spend on them, as today, I finally bought a totally tubular and pirate-esque coat (I may post a pic later).And then there were the things that I wanted but did not purchase.
Exhibit A: The shoes to the left. AND they were on sale.
I also found the cutest leopard print purse and not one but three beautiful leopard print scarfs.
(Leopard print is my latest pattern obsession).
And then there were the magical shoes that made my legs look as long as Ron Jeremy. (Ironically, they were from Paris Hilton's line...)
Its Painful to Realize...
How incredibly naive, ignorant, and childish I am at times.
I am 18 years old.
Legally I am an adult, but those who know me would prolly argue otherwise... as demonstrated by my usage of 'prolly'. In any case, I am on the precipice of adulthood; shouldn't I be at least a bit disillusioned by life by now? Shouldn't those fantasies of traveling, doing nothing in particular, financial security regardless of whatever I end up doing or not doing, finding true and pure love have passed by now?
Well, they haven't. I constantly dream of a life full of smiles, hidden intimate moments, and just pure satisfaction.
Sometimes this juvenile optimism makes me even more aware of my lack of experience in 'the real world.'
I hate being so optimistic, sometimes if only because to avoid the condescension that others so lovingly bestow on my being.
Good times.
:/
I am 18 years old.
Legally I am an adult, but those who know me would prolly argue otherwise... as demonstrated by my usage of 'prolly'. In any case, I am on the precipice of adulthood; shouldn't I be at least a bit disillusioned by life by now? Shouldn't those fantasies of traveling, doing nothing in particular, financial security regardless of whatever I end up doing or not doing, finding true and pure love have passed by now?
Well, they haven't. I constantly dream of a life full of smiles, hidden intimate moments, and just pure satisfaction.
Sometimes this juvenile optimism makes me even more aware of my lack of experience in 'the real world.'
I hate being so optimistic, sometimes if only because to avoid the condescension that others so lovingly bestow on my being.
Good times.
:/
OM NOM NOM
I had a really good vegan brownie today (three cheers for whole foods!!!). For breakfast.
That's right, bitches.
(And so moist! ...lay off the innuendo plzzzzz)
I even found a variety of pies, all vegan and...raw. Si senor(ita) completely raw. Have no idea how they do it. And they had a variey of delicious looking desserts: pecan pie, ice creams, brownies, cakes, ...twas all very heavenly.
That's right, bitches.
(And so moist! ...lay off the innuendo plzzzzz)
I even found a variety of pies, all vegan and...raw. Si senor(ita) completely raw. Have no idea how they do it. And they had a variey of delicious looking desserts: pecan pie, ice creams, brownies, cakes, ...twas all very heavenly.
Memorable Quote
"Memory could save, [it] had power, [it] was often the only recourse of the powerless, the oppressed or the brutalized."
-
-
Lucky Afterword
Lucky, by Alice Sebold, was an interesting read... to say the least... The 244 (PATTERN!!!) page memoir chronicles Sebold's rape as during her freshman year at Syracuse, and its aftermath (effects, trial, etc.)
But to tell the truth, it's not worth reading until page 234 - the riveting aftermath begins. Only in those few pages, one really sees how fucked up Sebold's life really became (whether her life would have taken a different turn were it not for the rape is an argument for another time). From a heroin dependency to promiscuity to alcoholism, the aftermath is ironically the most sobering part (lulz; aren't I punny?) of the novel. It was so moving that those rare waves of gratitude came a-coming for the overprotected and 'inexperienced' I have led thus far.
It also made me feel not sorry but just much more aware of all those people I know who may lead an exhilarating but all in all unhealthy and unhappy lifestyle (which I foolishly covet at times). And these are young people who quite literally have the rest of their lives in front of them. There is nothing glamorous about spending one's days slave to the drink, waking up in unknown places, surrounded by violence, and even worse, expecting the violence, the heartache, the pain, and misery.
I refuse to believe that life is supposed to be like that; life is only what one makes it out to be. Call me an optimist, but don't you dare to call yourself a fucking realist.
Read the afterword and discuss it with me. I've gotten to the point where I'm so frustrated that I can't bother with even trying to articulate my thoughts into a comprehensible argument.
I might write a book review like I had orginally set out to do later. No promises.
Oh and I should mention that there is someone in particular that has incurred the frustration. He doesn't know. Nor does he know I care. I don't know if he cares that I care.
But to tell the truth, it's not worth reading until page 234 - the riveting aftermath begins. Only in those few pages, one really sees how fucked up Sebold's life really became (whether her life would have taken a different turn were it not for the rape is an argument for another time). From a heroin dependency to promiscuity to alcoholism, the aftermath is ironically the most sobering part (lulz; aren't I punny?) of the novel. It was so moving that those rare waves of gratitude came a-coming for the overprotected and 'inexperienced' I have led thus far.
It also made me feel not sorry but just much more aware of all those people I know who may lead an exhilarating but all in all unhealthy and unhappy lifestyle (which I foolishly covet at times). And these are young people who quite literally have the rest of their lives in front of them. There is nothing glamorous about spending one's days slave to the drink, waking up in unknown places, surrounded by violence, and even worse, expecting the violence, the heartache, the pain, and misery.
I refuse to believe that life is supposed to be like that; life is only what one makes it out to be. Call me an optimist, but don't you dare to call yourself a fucking realist.
Read the afterword and discuss it with me. I've gotten to the point where I'm so frustrated that I can't bother with even trying to articulate my thoughts into a comprehensible argument.
I might write a book review like I had orginally set out to do later. No promises.
Oh and I should mention that there is someone in particular that has incurred the frustration. He doesn't know. Nor does he know I care. I don't know if he cares that I care.
New Doctor...Ugh
His name is Matt Smith (don't like his name; I mean the only way his name can get more fucking generic would be if his given name were John - a much lovelier name than Matt anyday). He's British, not a Scotsman acting British (meaning he's already not as impressive). His accent is super posh (as in too posh). He looks young (can you say novice???) He's a hipster (highly inappropriate in the real world).
I currently have a hard time fantasizing about him stealing me away in the TARDIS and whisking me off to 666 BC, where we would fight invading alien creatures or some shizz like that. Only time can and will tell what this feeling will progress into.
Oh and apparently Catherine Zeta Jones was up for the role! How fucking fantasic would that have been?!?! The first female doctor and a fabulous and most gorgeous one at that.
I currently have a hard time fantasizing about him stealing me away in the TARDIS and whisking me off to 666 BC, where we would fight invading alien creatures or some shizz like that. Only time can and will tell what this feeling will progress into.
Oh and apparently Catherine Zeta Jones was up for the role! How fucking fantasic would that have been?!?! The first female doctor and a fabulous and most gorgeous one at that.
My Current Music Obsession
Kings of Leon. So fucking good. The offspring of Modest Mouse and Bob Dylan (for who they apparently opened for when they first started...)
('Stache Ride!)
And not just that one single of theirs that everyone kind of knows, "Sex on Fire." Don't get me wrong, aforementioned song is pretty damn good, but almost everything on their last two albums is pretty amazing.
They're scheduled to be in Christchurch sometime in March; I'm crossing my fingers that I'll be able to go see them. It's only a six hour drive...
('Stache Ride!)
And not just that one single of theirs that everyone kind of knows, "Sex on Fire." Don't get me wrong, aforementioned song is pretty damn good, but almost everything on their last two albums is pretty amazing.
They're scheduled to be in Christchurch sometime in March; I'm crossing my fingers that I'll be able to go see them. It's only a six hour drive...
Diane Arbus Was BADASS
Look closely.
I still haven't found my fave one yet, but will post as soon as I do.
I still haven't found my fave one yet, but will post as soon as I do.
Five Finger Discount
So we were in Aardvarks today and I accidently stole a pair of sunglasses. (Yes, accidently!)
I kinda tucked them onto my top and like between my boobs in between trying on different pairs of glasses and totally forgot that they were there. I only realized they were still tucked in my boob after we had driven away.
And I didn't feel too guilty then, but now I do.
And prolly worst of all is that I regret not tucking the cuter, super retro/60s' white ones in between the girls. EPIC FAIL.
(kinda what the white ones looked like, but they were more square)
I kinda tucked them onto my top and like between my boobs in between trying on different pairs of glasses and totally forgot that they were there. I only realized they were still tucked in my boob after we had driven away.
And I didn't feel too guilty then, but now I do.
And prolly worst of all is that I regret not tucking the cuter, super retro/60s' white ones in between the girls. EPIC FAIL.
(kinda what the white ones looked like, but they were more square)
(you can see the top of them; but not the cute leopard print sides^^^)
Dear Diary...
Elvin scored his first goal today. And of course I wasn't there to see it. Am not sure whether to blame myself for not being more involved in general or them for not inviting/telling me about the game.
:/
:/
A cargasmic day...
So, on her way to my house, Kyra sends me a text about how she just had an "explosive cargasm" (hold the dirty jokes, please and thanks). Of course I believed her just cuz she has excellent taste; I think I "lol"-ed but then didn't think too much of it.
Then we drove by the cars...
HOLY FUCKING HELL. SWEET MOTHER OF MARY. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. PETER, BJORN, AND JOHN. MARY MAGDALENE. JULIA ROBERTS'S CHARACTER IN 'PRETTY WOMAN.' (Yay, prostitutes!)
I wanted to hotwire (haha, as if I know how) all the cars and just drive off in them.
Yes, all three of them. At the same time.
The yellow one is my fave:
And yes, we did stop the car, park, and get out just to take pictures. They were that beautiful.
And then about one block up (right across the street from the post office for all you El Segundo denizens) was another Triumph (gt6, I think) in white.
But the cargasms didn't stop there... On the way home, we passed about 20-25 (no lie; Kyra counted up until 17 but then gave up) gorgeous Corvettes. Yes, a Corvette Gang. New and Old. In a variety of colors. Needless to say, they were beautiful (too).
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