that's just ridiculous.

I think I'm going to stop buying new clothes.

No, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop shopping (who do you think I am?). Aside from all the articles and columns and reminders that recycling clothes is so much better for the environment, I want to start exclusively thrift shopping because it's effing cheap. And in L.A. (and, as I'm sure, in other large cities), you can get amazingly cute stuff, that's better made/more unique than anything you can find at H&M and Forever 21 at the Beverly Center.

Here is where my argument is supposed to turn from Aristotle's pathos into logos, as my retarded Speech teacher would say. So I offer to you my receipt from my last thrifting binge:
Striped Mini Dress - $5
3 Belts - $3 ($1 each)
Cute Mocassins- $2
Electric Blue Insanely Soft Sweater- $4
Slip Dress- $3.50
T-Shirt that I am currently Wearing- $3
Really Cute Top- $4

Total: $24.50
Amazing.

Okay, I'm done being shallow now.

it's pretty much over.

Thank you, Patricia Cohen and The New York Times. Finally, some sense in all of it. Not to say it's a complete reversal of myths, but I think it might finally be time to patch over the fault line between the North and South:

"When you look at suburbs and middle class, then you start getting a national story. ... White suburbs outside Charlotte are reacting the same as white suburbs outside Los Angeles or New Jersey."

So shut up about it, Hollywood. And all the people who have made snide comments to me here, thinking they know things they don't.

I recommend reading all of it.

repeat. repeat. repeat.

Stereotypical blog entry, with moments of deep personal significance:

Lately, I've been feeling between things. And I've also been feeling over things. And behind things. So, basically, I am feeling things. Of all sorts. And trying to stop myself from feeling the thing that I vaguely mentioned last week, but mainly am only perpetuating the feeling of the thing that I know I shouldn't feel or ever act upon or ever imagine ever again.

always whining.

Lately, I have been so sleep-deprived that my ears have started ringing. Okay, maybe that's not sleep deprivation, but rather my screwed up body doing screwed up things to punish me for being a bad person.

Also, I wrote a review for the paper on Monday! It was super dorky, so I'm a little reserved about posting a link to it. I just thought it was a pretty cool to have my work published.

In other news, I can feel another school year winding down. Things are so hectic lately that I can't even imagine the flurry of activities settling down and flopping onto my living room couch to read James Joyce (which is my goal this summer). Last year at this time, I was on the edge of my seat just waiting, waiting, waiting for the quarter to end. But now, I am scared of entering the second half of my college career and leaving everything I depend on behind. I know I have a lot to look forward to (a publishing internship [which I got by the way], tutoring, literary mag editing, my own column, a car, a kitchen). It's just that all of it makes me feel way too grown up. I want to be eight when Disneyland was still exciting and they still made new episodes of Boy Meets World.

And I have feelings about something I know I'm not supposed to feel. And the word might be getting out because I've never been good at hiding things. Even really huge things that could ruin everything -- for the better.

the worst is almost over.

a brief synopsis.

The cheapest studio apartment in Lower Manhattan costs $950,000, according to a census reported in today's New York Times. On the other hand, there are 126 men per 100 women in said location.

So, in my wildest and richest dreams, I still want to live here:



Speaking of which, that is a picture taken this afternoon in New York City. Why is it so pretty there, while L.A. - rumored to have some of the best weather in the world - has been spread over with a thick layer of gray. Take away the peanut butter, dammit. I just want the jelly.

lots and lotsa.

I have purchased my plane ticket to London on British Airways. This means I'll be spending the 4 weeks in England for the program, and then 3 weeks after that in Dublin, Paris, Madrid, Barcelona, and Nice.

I am so poor.

Also, it just seems wrong that I never wrote anything about the Virginia Tech shootings, especially since I was really emotionally affected by them. I just want to say that the whole situation - from the preventativeness of it to the logistics of the situation to the interactive graphics on the New York Times - is frustrating. America learned nothing from Columbine. In order to learn that we had learned nothing, we had to witness the exact same situation, this time with higher tolls. It makes me sick to my stomach. The news will cover it a few more days, return to it again in a few weeks for a story or two, and then forget about it for another year. Nothing more will happen. Nothing will change.

simple and neat.

I watch her as she dives under water. I sink below the surface, opening my eyes to see her legs shimmering a peachy green, barely deflected by the murky water. She twists her body towards me - just five feet away - and in that distance, I see her wave through the water, treating the molecules of hydrogen and oxygen as if the hydrogen didn't exist. Her laugh bubbles up into the water, bubbles up in the center of my stomach, sends bubbles through the summer.

I come up for air. I smell wisteria.

minus the raspberries.

I don't understand how you can try to be friends with someone and then lie right to their face when they ask you a direct question. How do you expect to build back trust if you aren't even honest about stupid little things? I don't even care about what happened-- not in the least/as I shouldn't; Being lied to about it, however, pisses me off. I deserve more respect than that.

general happenings.

Does anyone else find it cool that you can now blog in Hindi?

I think that's absolutely amazing.

Also, I am very content right now. I love that I can live with one of my best friends and go shopping with her on Saturday afternoon. :)

And, I think I might actually be becoming smart(ish)! Fantastic news for me, anyway.

Finally, Brett suggested to me that I start practicing my column-writing skills through using my blog constructively. I am kind of dreading taking this seriously, but I don't want to let anyone down next year.