All I Want for Christmas...

Is for someone to give me a paper to-go cup of coffee on which it is written:

"I like you a latte."

Folding Chair

I'd planned a few insightful comments to put on here, and forgot them all and decided to opt for this instead:

Let’s get a silver bullet trailer and have a baby boy
I’ll safety-pin his clothes all cool and you’ll grafitti up his toys

I’ve got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget
I’ve got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat
Yes, they do, they do…

That last bit makes me feel pretty in the most uncomplicated and pure way, especially when sung in Regina's jubilant trill.

Mah Budday

Carl Jung is generally scorned, discredited, or otherwise ignored by the academic community, probably because of the fact that all his writings were so diffuse, nebulous, and contradictory. For some reason, though, I happen to be very fond of the little Swiss crazy-man.

Fiona <3 Jung

The Flying Tomato

I've always had a thing for redheads, for some reason. About four years ago, at the time of the 2006 Winter Olympics, I fell in love at first sight. With whom, you may ask? With Shaun White, adorable snowboarder/surfer/skater from SoCal with X-Games and Olympics medals under his belt, Olympics favorite and sweetheart of the press (who were aware of all the teenage girls swooning over him). I stood in my mom's office, and swore to my parents that somehow, in four years, when I was a junior in high school (it seemed so far away at the time), I would go to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics and bask in the glory that was Shaun White.

I'm not gonna lie, I sort of forgot about him recently after spending 3-ish years obsessing over him. But I looked him up again, and fell in love with him all over again. Dear god, I totally forgot to mention this important fact: I learned to snowboard on a mountain he rode on, which I think is a clear indication that fate decided we were meant to be together.

Anyway, I just realized that the 2010 Winter Olympics were just around the corner, and it had totally slipped my mind. Did you know the torch relay has already started? And with a sinking heart I realize that even though I can afford Olympic tickets to the men's halfpipe event and a plane ticket, I'm probably not even legally allowed to purchase a plane ticket. And I'd probably have to live on the street were I to go anyway because of the fact that hotels were booked out 10 years ago. The middle school-me is sobbing on the inside.

I love the Olympics!

Blanche

• Today we watched Streetcar. I adore Vivien Leigh. Although she's English, I keep getting fooled into thinking that she was raised in a lazy cotton field down here. And, uh, I didn't mind Marlon either. I kept sighing, enraptured, and Grace and Lauren B. kept glancing at me, shaking their heads. "Fiona, you're gonna end up with an abusive husband!" They dont understand that Stanley is not Marlon.
• My phone got soaked and stopped working, so we bought a new one off the internet. It came yesterday. It's broken.
• I really miss Glenn and I haven't spoken to him since the IB picnic.
• Netflix is hatin all up on me and will probably never put the fourth season of the doctor on instant view.
  

Glitter on the West Streets

HOT DAMN.
I can't help but to comment, only to obsess over how fucking badass this one music video is. I'm not sure if the video is actually as amazing as I claim, or if it's just my intense love for Karen O and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but as I sit here in one of the GHP computer labs, I freak out.

I like reading your posts a lot. I think you forget how good you are at expressing things too. Reading that post made me feel like you were right beside me. I think you have a gift for communicating and conveying your personality through words.

Red As Strawberries in the Summertime

Only seven days left. By this time in a week, I will be in Valdosta, nervously scanning crowds and missing my Momma.

I just ate meat in the leftovers of a Bolognese sauce, and I feel full and meaty. People make fun of me for being a "half-vegetarian", but I am serious about meat. It feels like the meatiness left a residue on my tongue, of blood and flesh, and I swear the meat started swelling once it hit my stomach, because there's no other way to explain this sickly bloating I'm feeling. I wish I had mint, salad, peas, or something green and fresh to cleanse my mouth with, but I'm full and too tired to go in search of those things. I always promise myself not to eat it again, and do it anyway.

Summer so far has been a trudging of sorts. I trudge through the internet before going to sleep very late, trudge out of bed, trudge through the day, and repeat. My mind feels like sludge! The fact that my brothers are now out of the house does nothing to improve the stillness and silence of the house; if anything, it adds to it.

I'm afraid. Afraid, more and more, of my impending failure. Afraid of GHP. Afraid of not finishing my mom's present in time. Afraid of my lethargy. I dream of a summer where I can drive and flit freely between sun soaking and late nights and absent chats with friends.

I'm such a typical teenager, gross.