smileyjess

yale, shmale.

hell yes.
1000a: dave tickets go on sale.
1001a: section 8, row b tickets purchased.

fuck you yale. now i actually have to make a decision.

right now here's how it stands:

do i go to brown and go up to my eyeballs in debt before i'm old enough to legally drink?

do i settle for pc for free?

do i go to tulane with my best friend in the whole world with 22,000 off each year?

do i go to bc which was my realistic first choice?

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
this feels like a terrible breakup. i've been rejected by a love without reason. and i feel like absolute shit.

whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

i got rejected from princeton, but i dont think it really counts because i kind of forgot i had applied there.

as far as yale goes, i'm going to send them something along these lines...

Dear Harvard,

Sincerely,
Jonathan Wall
Dean of Admissions at the Jon Wall Institute

you know that saying...

if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all?

i think that's why i've been kind of quiet. i don't have anything nice to say. i've got a bunch of complaints, per usual, but i don't want to use this to voice them anymore than i already do.

i've had a tumultuous weekend, during which i failed to open my backpack, but also failed to care.

it's the fourth quarter of my senior year. when did that suddenly happen?

tomorrow is my 18th birthday. i'm going to celebrate by getting my license renewed and buying a lottery ticket with the hopes that it will pay for my college education.

this morning i wasn't feeling too well, just mentally exhausted, my mind in a twist, numbers with too many zeros at the end floating in front of me, words i can't take back that echo neverendingly. walking in, will shouted to me from the third floor of the science center, causing me to smile from ear to ear.

when i told mr. mac i didnt do my calc homework because crunching tuition numbers was more math than i could handle on sunday, he laughed and told me not to worry. about anything.

worrying is my job.

i tried leaving this whole thing into the hands of Fate, but she's being a bitch and not helping any. i look for signs, but they seem pretty equal.

my mom is going away this week. which means she wont be around for my birthday. feeling all sorts of guilty, we went out tonight. she told me to forget about the numbers for a minute and just choose. right then and there.

i couldn't. i can't.

this was supposed to not be complain-y. damn it. i'm sorry.

on the bright side ( literally! ) it was sunny until 730p tonight. maybe it's a sign.

oh my god this is the best news i've heard since that time i got into brown.

so i am totally loving this whole fourth quarter thing. somehow i got 103.3 in physics, despite my 86 on one test and a 3 out of 4 on another lab thingy. sweetness. i think she messed up on the numbers somewhere (as of last week i only had a 97), and i tried to point this out to her, but she just can't admit it when she's wrong (wow, ain't that the pot calling the kettle black???). not like i mind - for once her stubbornness works to my benefit! all heil herr kaiser!

i had a wonderful 18th birthday yesterday, filled with fabulous friends and positive all around awesomeness. thanks, guys. you all rock my socks muchisimo!

ryan is now safely back on rhode island grounds, celebrating his homecoming by stomping triumphantly over eastern cranston with me tonight. he returned yesterday from new orleans, where he was busy 'visiting tulane.' in reality, he was sneaking out of the bed and breakfast and attending nightly frat and sorority parrrr-tays at the hip and happening hotspot known simply as The Boot. already sleeping through classes and spending late nights out, spotting snivelous sly fellows in bushes at 2am in the morning videotaping a house (the inhabitants of which were safely tucked between the sheets), i have decided for rye that he cannot go to tulane.*

out of his crazy carousing and awful antics, i scored a hot tulane t shirt and authentic n'olans beads (i did NOT ask where he got those!!)

we meandered our way to an old, abandoned highway overpass on private property. it's not really good for much other than smoking pot and graffiting, neither of which activity we pursued. instead, we tentatively looked through the rusted crisscrosses of the fence, fingers entwined in the chain links, arms raised, and watched the cars zoom underneath us. it was nearing 7 or so, and the sky was quite nice by this time. we decided that someday we'll have to hang something from this decrepit bridge overlooking 95. not quite sure what, exactly, at this point. just know that we will. next time i'm going to bring my camera because i bet the shots would have looked cool, what with the glowing lights of 80mph cars and the pinkish-orangeish sky.

also this morning madeleine invited me to hit upppp the everclear concert next thursday in boston! everclear is what brought us together (the band, not the drink. the drink is what brought me and... well... you dont need to know that right now!) so i really hope i'm totally able to guilt trip my mom (who, might i remind you, was away for my birthday at a "conference" in new york city. it is suspicious that during this "conference" she had first base side seats in yankee stadium to see them play mah boys... hmmmm) into letting me go. i havent heard their latest two cd's, so i really hope they would play a ton of stuff off of so much for the afterglow and preceding albums.

busy day tomorrow - school, no free, visiting the state house with evin and lauren and the school principal, then hitting up thayer and an appointment in providence.

i leave you with a song from liz because i think she is totally awesome.

You Don't Know How It Feels
Tom Petty
Let me run with you tonight
I'll take you on a moonlight ride
There's someone I used to see
But she don't give a damn for me

But let me get to the point, let's roll another joint**
And turn the radio loud, I'm too alone to be proud
You don't know how it feels
You don't know how it feels to be me

People come, people go
Some grow young, some grow cold
I woke up in between
A memory and a dream

So let's get to the point, let's roll another joint
Let's head on down the road
There's somewhere I gotta go
And you don't know how it feels
You don't know how it feels to be me

My old man was born to rock
He's still tryin' to beat the clock
Think of me what you will
I've got a little space to fill

So let's get to the point, let's roll another joint
And let's head on down the road
There's somewhere I got to go
And you don't know how it feels
You don't know how it feels
No, you don't know how it feels to be me

You don't know how it feels
You don't know how it feels
No, you don't know how it feels to be me

*just kidding, rye, feel free to go wherever you want. no pressure.
**"let's roll another (radio edit)" --- Liz: "Roll another what??!?!?!? I don't get it!!!!"

you know that scene in the 1996 make of romeo and juliet by baz luhrmann during which r and j's eyes catch for the first time through the clear, bubbling water of an extremely clean saltwater fishtank with the yellow one fluttering in the upper left hand corner momentarily blocking the view and claire danes pretends to look away but then looks back again and leo shakes his bangs out of his eyes so as to sneak a better peek and des'ree is singing that amazing song in the backround and there's the violin solo and juliet's dress swirls when she runs away from romeo and he dodges people in the crowd to find her?

i won't pretend i've ever had one of these moments. but today i was in between those towering shelves of beautifully colored book bindings at borders, sitting on a small wooden footstool, minding my own business, lost in the world of saturday by ian mcewan when out of the blue the He of My Dreams, dressed smartly in an unbuttoned dark green blazer (white polo, one button unbottoned) paired with loose chinos and comfortable-looking broken-in and weathered shoes (no socks necessary), peered over his rimless glasses and shook his dark haired bangs out of the way, tucking them neatly behind his perfectly-sized ear, smiled (thus revealing gleaming white teeth lined in two unnaturally perfect rows), and handed me atonement (mcewan's last book).

"this one's my favorite. i love how (insert extremely thorough analysis of briony that subsequently revealed to me that he must be an english major, as if the blazer hadn't already exuded a strong hint of this obvious fact here). you have to read it!"

suddenly swept up in a sea of self consciousness, i managed somehow to find the words to tell him about how i just finished it last night, loved it, and couldn't wait to start the newer novel before i dashed off, wishing i had a flowing costume on fit for a masquerade ball and maybe he'd dodge people to find me. wouldnt that be cool?

just like in the movie.

this weekend has just been nonstop. friday eve some of the best people in this world gathered en mi casa para celebrar. among these lucky few were: liz, rach, patty, madeleine, jon, rach's jon, rye, corey, lauren, shannon, tom, tj, mal, steph, maeve, and aaron. let's just say that i am positively awesome at choosing mis amigos and am just so lucky to be surrounded by people who know me so well: pre-colorcoordinated skittles, diet coke, hilarious laugh-out-loud in the store cards, slim fitted hip flask, gorgeous accessories, johnny damon's book, condoms, dinero, cigarette holders, a ticket to everclear this thursday, a test tube's worth of NoDoz, pencils with which to stab tj... the list goes on.... entertainment included awesomely fabulous raybob anecdotes, lauren and tom making fun of the holocaust, the revival of jon's terrible pope name (Adolf Hitler II), liz's melodius laugh, everyone pretending shannon wasn't really invited, madeleine's hot ass... basically everything we do at lunch, with a bop it tossed in once in awhile.

and yes, chances are good that we talked about you mwhahaha

this week is sure to be a complete wash in every respect. i'm not going to school tomorrow. i have presentations during three different periods on wednesday (B), thursday (A), and friday (G). thursday night i'm heading to boston with madeleine, char, and addy to club it uppppp.

i heart fourth quarter of my senior year. friday i had a field trip. my ap spanish class headed over to the surprisingly elegant (but in need of a facelift)columbus theatre to see zarzuela, a type of spanish opera. (i fell asleep. maybe la senora will think i was just concentrating on taking in the words? tal vez?) afterwards we went to a very sketchy mexican restaurant for lunch. it was delicious. here, rosie revealed that she doesn't like white people. (the phrase "minority car" was used...) she shared a funny story about a total guero picking her up in 'the ghetto.' she commented, "he was like all nervous, you know? i told him not to worry, there was some portuguese people livin' right down the street!!!" i heart that chica and am definitely going to miss that class. all 15 of us really bonded over handmade flour tortillas y horchata.

tomorrow, i am going to boston with lauren, julianne, and jon. lau and julianne have to interview a plastic surgeon for precisely 30 minutes (830a-900a) as a part of their pegasus project. jon and i thought they'd need some company, hence we are all taking the 645a train out of attelboro tomorrow. the job will be successfully executed before our classmates are even halfway through first period. but heck! we're in boston, it's Opening Day, we're seniors going to Tufts (Lauren), UPenn (Jon), PC (Julianne), and Brown (myself), and it's fourth quarter. so we have extensive plans to hit up quincey marketplace, faneuil hall, newbury street, and hopefully yawkey way for a bit before heading home in the late afternoon.

i'm taking my camera, fo sho. check back later fools. i'm heading to bed early.

i have to sing. solo. solfege some stupid fucking canon first period tomorrow in music theory.

just a heads up, you know, in case your ears start to spontaneously bleed or something.

la so fa me re do ti ti do do re re so so so so me so fa me re do

you hate how you just cower into myself and feel gripped by some great force and lose all control, not to mention your breath, and your voice wavers and you can't hear yourself. all you can hear is the blood pulsing in your ears and all you can feel is a strange sense of weightlessness and tears spring into your eyes and your heart pounds against your sternum and faces become nothing but swirling blurs. you bite your tongue until the slightest metallic taste strikes a tastebud. you feel a pit in the very deep recesses of your stomach and you feel the heat of all eyes on you but don't understand their soothing words and pity. you hate their pity. despise it. you don't deserve it. you do it all to yourself. and you will it all to just stop. but it doesn't.

and even when it's over just the thought is enough to scare you.

again.

i'd been in a pancake making mood as of late.
he'd been in a pancake eating mood as of late.

it was perfect!

rye and i had a pancake picnic last night in my backyard. he and a few of the track team self proclaimed 'fat kids' (i.e., the ones who actually weigh more than 105 pounds) are having an eating contest on friday. in order to bulk up, i came up with the grand idea of aforementioned pic-a-nic. we packed not only pancakes (plain and chocolate chip) but also potatoes, danish, tangerine strawberry crystal light (in elegant wine glasses, of course!), english muffins, sausage (for the meat-eater), hot n' delicious maple syrup, and onion and green pepper omlettes.

it was an exhausting task, but rye ate everything. (i was proud.) it was a perfect way to bring in spring (which finally appears to have arrived in lil' rhody.) nothing like a breakfast for dinner picnic in the backyard with your best bud, shootin' the breeze and feeling all sorts of wonderfully relaxed, save for a full belly.

chef rye.

mm mm good.

cheers!

rye in action, plopping onto the couch after what was most likely the toughest, most hardcore stomach expending eating workout of his life. Masochism at its best!

i skipped school monday to go to boston with lau and julianne. such an awesome time. nearly an epic adventure! i'll have to fill you in soon- i have some nice pictures from boston common that i'll post eventually.

tonight i'm going to boston for what is to be my first 18+ experience. we're hitting up some club in the city for what is sure to be a kick ass everclear concert. they better not playing any of the 'songs from an american movie' shit or there will be hell to pay! :) at any rate, i'm just so happy to be spending some much needed quality time with the lovely lush miss madeleine.

also i got a 97.68 average for the third quarter. i think it's about time i really let my inner senioritis escape.

people that own my heart:
1. art alexakis
2. madeleine

i distinctly remember the sharp crinkling of the cd wrapper when i first opened everclear's so much for the afterglow, a requested christmas present way back when in 6th grade. i was sitting on the padded cushion of my carpeted bedroom floor, gently placing the disc in my new player, folding my legs indian stule, elbows on my knees, thumbing through the liner notes. they were printed on black paper and i took extra special caution to not leave even the most barely notcieable trace of a fingerprint on them. i still gingerly handle the glossy pages with too much care six years later when i often do the same thing. except now i don't need to read the lyrics anymore, i could sing you that whole cd word for word, every track.

im convinced it was love. the lyricswere... words fail me. but i understood this. i knew what art alexakis was singing about. i absorbed all the tracks. i bought all previously released cd's with a significant chunk of my christmas money that year. i kept my love a secret. after all, i was 12, i wasn't supposed to be liking depressive music. i feigned an interest in the backstreet boys instead (yeah millenium tour!!)

i know it's totally hard to believe that i, a mere prepubescent, awkward, chubby, sensitive, and quiet sixth grader understood the heartwrenching story told from one angst ridden, heroin inspired song to the next: the habit, the depression, the fucked up relationships, his suicide attempts, and love for his daughter.

i understand completely. i find this so strange.

for almost three years i kept this dreadful secret to myself. but somehow, randomly, in a period e intro to computers course i took freshman year, madeleine and i discovered out mututal love named after a 190 proof alcoholic beverage.

last night we caught a show at the avalon. (my first 18+ event!) to be quite honest, i dont even listen to their new stuff. i made the mistake of buying songs from an american movie volumes one and two but i think those two cd's are not actually meant to be played, but rather used for coasters for my steaming mugs of bedtime tea. i think they suck because art was in rehab for a bit and they had to go and make him all sorts of happy. in preparation for the show, i've been listening to world of noise and so much for the afterglow over and over this week. i was really afraid they'd play the bad new stuff, which would have totally tainted the bad-ass image i have of them in my mind.

alas! i have good news! art's on heroin again!!!!

his legs were about the size of my arm, thighs certainly did not touch one another. with the lights shining on him in the center of the stage, shadows were clearly visible beneath his eyes, in the deep concavity of the sockets, and you could definitely make out his overly-defined jawline and jutting cheekbones.

seriously, picture a skeleton with too-little flesh stretched over his bones, tattoos everywhere and all around bad-assness positively emanating from his fingertips as they grazed the fretboard of his gibson.

so. fucking. unfathomably. hot.

strawberry by everclear
(off of sparkle and fade)
Never been here, never coming back
Never want to think about the things
That happened today
Want to lay down on the warm ground
I think I'm going to need a little time to myself

Don't fall down now
You will never get up
Don't fall down now

I ask you for a slow ride
Going nowhere
You look like Satan
You ask me if I want to get high
Couple of bags down in old town
You tie your arm and
Ask me if I wanted to drive

Don't fall down now
You will never get up
Don't fall down now

Last thing I recall
I was in the air
I woke up on the street
Crawling with my strawberry burns
Ten long years in a straight line
They fall like water
Yes, I guess I fucked up again

Don't fall down now
You will never get up
Don't fall down now

so, i think i'm going to go to providence college. i'll explain some other time.

5 days until california.

vacation commenced with a lovely vegan lunch at fresh city with my favorite UPenn man, jon. we dined and dished, caught up and gossiped over delightfully decadent natural foods that jon doesn't normally permit to enter his body.

saturday i had family day at pc. it was nice. it's hard for me to think about actually going there, since i don't really know a lot about it other than it's free and it's for me. i talked with a few professors about my intended major (biology) and possible opportunities for researching with them. you know, just to get my foot in the door. i think this will work out really well because if i were to go to brown, i'd be struggling to keep my head above water due to the extreme competition whereas at pc i feel i will be better able to take advantage of all it has to offer.

plus there's the whole fact that i don't really have a fucking clue about what i want to do with my life, and i don't want to take out about 40 grand in student loans or give my parents their own personal heart attacks simply because of a $137,000 undergraduate college bill. because, yes, when all is said and done, that is how much it would cost us. ivy's nice, but i'd rather save my money and go to one for graduate school because that's the one that really matters.

in other news, yesterday i found the most perfect-est prom dress in the world. it was the first dress i tried on, and i bought it. it's love. the other day i went to the wrentham outlets and dropped a few paychecks on some gorgeous, new, and very much needed summer clothes.

tonight, it's a night on the town with rye, tomorrow i'm working and then it's off to cali!

i'm never going to call you back.

on the eve of my departure, allow me to tell you about my night on the town con mi mejor amigo. desperate for an excuse to wear my new hot pink linen skirt (oh, j. crew, how you positively rock my socks!), we dressed up nice and pretty (er, handsome?) and settled in at tortilla flats for a european-time cena at tortilla flats on the hottest day thus far of 2005. (seriously, it was gorgeous. i clearly skipped work and sat lazily soaking up the sol all day and it was all good.) we pushed aside our gazpacho bowls and melted cheese soaked enchiladas a couple of hours later and set off on an adventure of sorts - prospect park. providence will be my home for the next four years, so i wanted to see her skyline at her behest. (god, that sentence sounds like that crazy mr. audino. oh, how i wish he werent gay!!!!!!) we dodged skeevy drug traffickers and hippie poseur stoners (it was 4/20) and sat on a rickety wooden bench, taking it all in. providence get set. here i come. it really had better be the 'renaissance city' pc claims it to be. i've been going to school there for the past four years and the only resemblance to a renaissance that i've seen is some decent graffiti. ("live because it lasts a long time" wow. good advice, thanks!)

we hopped over (okay, drove) to the coffee exchange on wickenden street. i absolutely love that hole in the wall of a place. colorful banner posted every which way on the walls, beautiful brown guys on laptops with designer glasses (stop.thinking.about.it.now.stop.i.mean.it.$178,000.okay.breathe). we opted for chai (me) and hot chocolate with extra whipped cream (rye), sat back and talked about boobs. no really. we did. oh, and college. and beer. and also how much we both love madeleine and jessica and hillary and jon. because we really really do.

afterwards we strolled around waterplace park for a while. after a long day of doing nothing and talking for a few hours with rye, i was exhausted. so we called it a night and headed home.

i have documented the eve in a handful of photos. here are the first few i snapped before i got too lazy to resize all 43 i took.

mi hogar

skyline

a bit blurry

hot pinkness.

rye was more courageous!

i'm off to cali in a few hours. catch you on the other coast.

Keeping Things Whole
-Mark Strand-
In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.

When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body's been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.

also i am obsessed with coldplay's speed of sound. i never read lyrics, so just go listen to it.

"whatever school, you matter not."

fuck yes.

i think this is hilarious. sad, but hilarious. my dad said her father must be going through a whirlwind of emotion right now: on the one hand, his daughter is alive. on the other, he still has to foot the bill for a 600-guest wedding.

dear ol' dad. i think that was my hint to elope.