Promised Movies

It's Tuesday, so it's still way too early in the week for me. The only thing I'm looking forward to is my birthday this Friday. Friday! Living proof that Fridays were man's greatest idea/creation. That and the band The Temper Trap. Chances are, you'll recognize their song "Sweet Disposition". It was in my favorite movie (500) Days of Summer. Which speaking of movies, I wrote yesterday that I'd have a list of my favorite movies today, or tomorrow, technically speaking. And I do! Don't freak out, I'm not making up any excuses. At least not yet. So anyways, here they are:
1) (500) Days of Summer
2) Slumdog Millionaire
3) The Soloist
4) Spirited Away
5) Howl's Moving Castle (English Version)
6) Grave of The Fireflies (Japanese Version)
7) Harry Potter movies, and I'm sure the last two
8) Blue Crush
9) Thirteen
10) The Devil Wears Prada
11) Moulin Rouge
12) Quadam- actually a stage play by Cirque Du Solei but still great

Top 12 anyway. I'm a tough critic. But at the same time I'm actually not more than I am because I seriously like every movie I see, well, pretty much. I also really liked Inception but I'm not sure if it's a favorite. Probably because, I'm still not really sure of the plot line. Of course my parents went a couple of weeks ago and didn't like it because they couldn't follow it. Why am I smarter than my own parents. How is that even possible? I was going to only do top 10 but I decided that there were some that just couldn't not be listed. If you know who he is, you may have noticed Miyazaki movies in there. Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, and Grave of the Fireflies are all Japanese anime movies by Miyazaki, who wrote, directed, and I think, actually was the artist too.
I read somewhere, recently, that his son took over and made a movie. Apparently, he didn't have the touch his father had, but I mean, come on. Miyazaki is a friggin' genius, having to follow that would be pretty tough. Besides, nothing can top Spirited Away.

Happy Mondays?

So, I think I can speak for everybody when I say that nobody really likes Mondays. And if they do, well... I don't really have anything to say to that. Well maybe a "what the hell is wrong with you?" is appropriate for someone who likes Mondays. No disrespect to those of you who like 'em. Actually, in all honesty, today wasn't too bad. Except for maybe the fact that I'm wearing five rubberbands now because of my crackpot orthodontist! How is this even possible? I mean, five rubberbands? Isn't that a bit extensive? Whatever. The point is not to bash orthodontits, especially since I want to be one. Yes, I'm serious. No, really, that wasn't a joke.
Would you believe that I never come into these blogs with ideas? I just wing it. Um, oh okay here's one. P.E.? What a joke, dude. It's my very first class of the day, and not that the Illinois heat is blistering or anything, but I still get pretty gross. That was a pretty shitty idea though. Hm, sexuality maybe? Yeah, I kind of like that. Okay, here goes. I, personally, am not gay. Let me repeat that: I am not gay. But that doesn't mean I hate people who are. Like seriously, why can't gay people, or homosexual if that offends you, get married? Who's it hurting? We talked about it in government, because apparently gay marriage has everything to do with the government. Even though I say this, I can't help but be a little weirded out by it. A question: is it weirder to see PDA from a boy/girl couple or a gay couple? I'm sorry, but I'd have to say the gay couple, although I don't really apprciate it from anybody. I know a couple of "in-the-closet" people, one a couple of bi-sexuals, and I don't think of them any differently, just so long as the girls aren't hitting on me, I guess. And I know you're probably just like "just tell them you're not interseted" and everything but, I don't know, just the thought kind of creeps me out. I know this blog today is major suckage and everything but I'm having a block. I usually do best on the weekends, I've noticed. Probably because, I'm trying to make sure I get this down before dinner.
Does anybody else have parents who fight all the time? I'm mean, I'm sure I'm not the only one of course, but I'm serioulsy just wondering. Lately they have been anyway. But I think what really bugs me is my mom's voice when it get all .. sqauky, I guess is really the best thing I can use to describe it. So yeah, I know it's boring to read about other people's life, or at least I think so. I know what I'll do for tomorrow! I'll make a list of my favorite movies, one's that I strongly reccommend, and then the interactive question should be pretty self explanatory, but if not, I'll just write it tomorrow anyway. Wow, I'll finally have a plan and I sound like such a hypocrit right now. Okay, so anyways, my question for today is... What's your favorite subject in school? Mine's English. "Or do you hate school? Because I do.." - Destery :)

Copying Hate Poems

Seriously, it's not that I'm a depressed person. Really, I'm not. I couldn't- well, I guess that's not true, there are ways I could be happier, but they will never come, and I know that. Yes, okay, maybe that does sound depressed, like "you need help" depressed". And if it doesn't to you, even better. I'm really not, though. I love life, I love all of that. But today, I was going through random blogs and I came across these poems about hate. I really liked them and wanted to do one for myself. This poem will range from everything to everything else.

I hate that I want to write this poem.

I hate feeling like I'm copying.

I hate people who do copy.

I hate not knowing if I'm one of them.

I hate that I hate everything about myself in other people.

I hate when you're sad.

I hate that it makes me sadder.

I hate that I care so much.

I hate that you don't.

I hate you with them.

I hate you without me.

I hate me without you.

I hate that you don't even think about me.

I hate how obsessive this feels.

I hate that nothing seems right without you.

I hate how hardly anything happened.

I hate how long ago everything was.

I hate that this isn't killing you. Or even hurting.

I hate how it's doing both to me.

I hate how cynical I've become.

I hate how you haven't.

I hate that you've changed.

I hate how I can't help it.

I hate that I'm writing this about that.

I hate the ending of this song.

I hate that I have to change it every three minutes.

I hate that you cloud up my thoughts, and I never pass your mind.

I hate how happy you seem.

I hate how obvious it must be.

I hate how gross I feel.

I hate that you said that.

I hate that every song reminds me of you.

I hate my smile.

I hate my frown.

I hate not doing either.

I hate looking stupid in front of you.

I hate how "I hate" is the two first words in every line.

I hate how great you were.

I hate that you couldn't do it.

I hate not knowing if you wanted to.

I hate knowing you did.

I hate not knowing anything anymore.

I hate being opinionated.

I hate not knowing what I believe.

I hate that you wrote that.

I hate vacuum cleaners.

I hate the sound they make.

I hate that I had to turn the sound up.

I hate how I got side- tracked.

I hate how that's probably grammatically wrong.

I hate how that word was probably spelled wrong.

I hate that I care about something so little.

I hate how big my eyes are.

I hate how threatened I feel by everyone.

I hate that I hide.

I hate my wall.

I hate that she's the best part of Spanish.

I hate that I'm not.

I hate that you don't notice him.

I hate that you probably think I'm weird.

I hate that you'll never read this.

I hate that, if you did, you'd never guess it was about you.

Or written by me.

I hate that that didn't say I hate.

I hate when my foot falls asleep.

I hate that I'm fucking blind as a bat.

I hate contacts.

I hate glasses more.

I hate that he was gay.

I hate that you aren't.

I hate that we barely talk.

I hate small talk.

I hate the way my brain works.

I hate that I can never make the cut.

I hate how itchy I am.

I hate that I have writers' block.

I hate how that apostrophe looks.

I hate the spelling check on here.

I hate the exorcist.

I hate it coming out on my birthday.

I hate that I love you.

I hate that she thinks he even compares.

I hate how arrogant that sounded.

I hate how ugly my hands are.

I hate that I don't know what song to listen to.

I hate clicking the wrong button.

I hate it when you put your hands so close.

I hate how I can't FUCKING see!

I hate how much I love you with your nerdy glasses.

I hate my life lately.

I hate that I'm so crazy about you.

I hate knowing I never cross your mind.

I hate how I already said that.

I hate that the keyboard was crooked.

I hate that she's so pretty.

I hate how I'm not.

I hate how people tell me I am, and I don't believe them.

I hate how I know I am.

I hate that you don't think so.

I hate how movies portray love.

I hate that I secretley want it.

I hate knowing I'd go farthest with you.

I hate that you probably couldn't care less.

I hate the word probably.

I hate how much I've used it.

I hate my tummy.

I hate that she won't go upstairs.

I'm scared of telling you.

I'm scared of not telling you.

I'm scared of crying in front of you.

I'm scared of crying in front of anyone.

I'm scared for myself for actually listening to Miley Cyrus.

I'm scared that I like this song.

I'm scared of finals.

I'm scared I'll never find someone like you.

I'm scared it'll just be the same thing.

I'm scared of letting them in.

Cellos, Cliques, and Cards

Today, it's my first blog. It's also a sad day. First, because an important cello lesson was cancelled. Of course, maybe it wasn't all that important it just was to me because, I mean it was a cello lesson. To add to the melancholy, are my parents upstairs yelling at each other about money. What is the point of money? Really, it's still a mystery to me. Why do we need it? Bartering was a genius idea, why it fell to the wayside, I do not know. It would be great to trade a clock for a book, or whatever it was you were bargaining. That's another thing about bartering: bargaining. You can't spell bargaining without "gaining" <-- that, ladies and gentlemen, is my poor excuse of a joke.
 Anyway, the point I'm trying to make here is that with money, things are nonnegotiable. A birthday card with sound at Hallmark is probably around five or six dollars. But you can't tell them at the counter that you think three is more appropriate for folded paper with a recording. And if you try to pay that much, you're really screwed because you'll probably end up gettting kicked out and having to go to Target for an even cheaper, but somehow more expensive, card for your mother on her birthday. No, it's not a personal experience. Just an idea from a basement in Illinois.
I don't mean to be feeling sorry for myself. My town is actually a good size, 25,000 people, a school with 2,500 kids. And yet, I still long for the city. I want to move to Japan. Don't think I've lost my marbles just yet. Japan? Why would I want to move to Japan? Blame it on anime. Anime makes Japan look like paradise, except in the apocolyptic animes that I'm not so fond of. I'm a pussy when it comes to anime I guess because all I really watch are the romantic ones. No anime, no matter how gooey or bloody, will ever compare to NANA, a truely epic piece of Japanes art.
Aside, from the anime rant, the point I really wanted to address was this: clicks. I'm sure, if you haven't been watching it, you've at least heard of MTV's new show If You Really Knew Me, a breakthrough new television show about people beating high school politics. I'm sure that they mean well. And I watch it just because I think it's entertaining. But it brought up a question for me. Do I judge people on what they look like? Am I a shallow person? And then it hit me, that I am. But only in some ways. It's not that I see a person with glasses and immediatley think of them as four eyes. That's not what I mean. Let's give an example. Okay, think of that really weird person at your school, you know that there's at least one. One person who hardly anyone likes, she or he is really just the social pits of your school. Or, if you're not in school, try and remember back to those seemingly far away days. Remember? Or are you trying to forget? Would you sit with them at lunch? Probably not, right? And if you say yes, I'm sorry I just don't believe you. Perhaps, my famous bitch reputation proceeds me, but I honestly wouldnt.
Now maybe it's because she came over to my house in, 3rd grade (?), and I just didn't like her because she came into our house, complimented our stained carpet, and then just layed on the floor. That could be why. Or maybe it's because, she half raped a girl in the bathroom in 7th, or maybe 8th- I'm not really sure, it was a long time ago- and then got suspended for it. Whatever the reason, If You Really Knew Me is supposed to break those rumors that brand us all throughout high school. I have a reputation too, and that is a bitch. Something, that isn't fair because I'm not, most of the time. But my real question is this: what happens when MTV leaves? Do the schools go back to the regular cliques (excuse the way it's spelled earlier)? Or do they really keep their hearts open? And something else that really amazed me was how different the high schools on there are different from mine. I live in a ritzy area, I won't lie. We have all the normal cliques: jocks, preps, punks/emos, me. I feel like I don't belong in any of those categories. None at all. Maybe preps? I dress like them, but I AM NOT A WANNABE! Let that be known.
I have an idea. Does anybody reading this watch youtube? Of course, you watch youtube, what a stupid question. However this next one isn't. Most people probably have, but you aren't most people. Have you ever heard of Shane Dawson? Or Destery? I personaly am probably in love with Destery, but he lives halfway across the country in Idaho, so that affair will probably never be happening. Anyway, my idea was sort of stolen from them. Every video, or almost every video, they ask a question. So I thought, hey, they're some of the most subscribed guys on youtube, maybe this question thing really works, plus the fact that they're unbelievably sexy, yes, I'm a creeper. So my question today is in relation to cliques. What clique are you? What clique would you put yourself in and what do people really think of you? Are they the same thing? Please follow and respond, or write a blog about it, and somehow, I will find it.