Noobs. You know NOTHING!

You call this insanity. I call it therapy.

I was up early in the morning the other day because I had an appointment with my personal trainer. I wound up waking two hours earlier than intended (due to an unfortunate mishap with my drunken ability to set my alarm clock), and spent those wee hours of the morning watching VHI's Top Video Countdown, which is a little better than AMTV, 'cos for one, it doesn't repeat the same recycled mainstream music piece of gargoyle shit.

I found Green Day's new single, 21 Guns. You have to admit, these guys stick to their winning formula when it comes to making songs. Punk rock songs are supposed to be hard-edged with subliminal messaging about political convictions and anti-establishment lyrics. 21 Guns does just that. The 21 Guns Salute originated in naval traditions, where a warships will fire all its round to sea to signify that it's disarmed and ammunitions had been spent, showing the lack of hostile intent.
So, that was good. Also, to fulfill my pop-punk quota of the day, I found All Time Low's Damned if I do Ya, (Damned if I don't!). Which isn't horrendous, but somehow, it sounds like the composition has been recycled, and while the words are original and entertaining, it falls short to my expectations. These guys can do better. But all in all, it's a pretty good track.

Okay, I'm done being smarticles.

"My summer is still lacking in thrilling action sequences and riveting romance scenes that will leave you believing in true love.In fact, my summer is the Norbit of all movies.It is the glorious fart in-between seats at a movie theater. The one that leaves you wondering, "Who the fu...?"

I ought to stop complaining and make things happen myself. I should "Get a life!" as my peers kindly suggest to me when walking down the hallways.
Ugh. Get a life?
That sounds like too much activity to me. :]

I wish I could go visit my friends in Rep.Dom. I'm sure that'd be a great couple of weeks. But the Prima Donna of the house doesn't want my company.
It's not bad enough that we menstruate together, now I have to listen to the woman?
Gee, I'm living a charmed life.

Peace out.
Tai. =]

I'm everything you're not.

The weather has improved!
I'm ecstatic. One gets tired of laying on the hardwood floor in a fetal position all day when thunderstorms are imminent and your TV cackles at you madly. (I was watching The Muppets.) You know what else I was watching?

Michael Jackson on the news.

Moonwalker...I am your father.

I believe it is in everybody's minds about his somewhat 'tragic' loss the other day, seemingly because he passed away right before his huge comeback! I mean, the man had a CHANCE! Move over, Britney Bitch. He had a sold-out 50 tours around the U.K, and he was completely ready to just dropkick everybody's flabbergasted faces.

Am I the only one that imagined his death in blazing glory? I'd always imagine the man keeling over in the middle of his moonwalk. Or at least in the middle of one his shows. The guy was a legend, and deserved to be remembered so! He was acquitted of the child molestation charges, and while eccentric and unbearingly pale, he changed the way music is today.

So, stop being patronizing asses and learn to face facts: He was a great entertainer, and we don't have very many with that sort of talent. R.I.P, MJ, I hope you find some semblance of peace wherever you are.

Everybody's been dying this whole damn week.

But you know what really chaps my ass about it?

Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, and now Billie Mays?

C'mon!

That man is an icon! Who else would yell and demand me to buy the new Oxyclean Bleach Stain Remover on every decent channel on the tube? My friend told me that she always said, "WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME, BILLIE MAYS?!"

And you know HOW he died? It is believed he knocked his head heading to Tampa, FL, in a rough landing. He complained about it, sort of rubbed his head, and walked it off. Then, the next morning, they find him unresponsive and without a pulse on his bed. Or...He could have OD'd on Oxyconti-clean. Oxyclean, I meant to say. :]

R.I.P, Oxyclean man, and Farrah!

(Next on the list...Madonna).

Watch me rep 220.

All of the songs on my playlist (----->) are my current list of songs that I replay over and over until I become so sick of them that I induct them into Songs Hall Of Fame. The SHOF is another playlist where all of my most amazing pick of music reside, and there are about 105 as of this moment. As I've mentioned before, I am a big fan of contemporary acoustics, but I also have a sweet spot for songs with brilliant lyrics and mildly melancholic composition, as well as rock songs with a slight influence of techno and just the overall weird beat of it all. Hence, my love for Panic At the Disco. But lately, Keane's been a winner. I found one of his songs on my favorite show, Scrubs, and pulled a few others.

Scrubs has excellent songs, am I the only one to notice?

***

Anyhow, I joined a gym! Yes, me in all my sweating glory will be toning up my calfs and biceps in a room stinking of salt and water. I'm duper excited.

The one thing I'm glad of is that it's a girls-only gym, and that's an upper because I honestly hate having to be in the same room as sweaty men.

***

In other news, I decided I'd form a fallback plan in case I don't get accepted to NYU. It's an out-of-state college, and I can't afford the pesos it would take to pay tuition there. My brother and I recently went touring university campuses and it's been an intriguing, albeit queer, experience. What with the fraternities and sororities hosting loud parties and all that. But heck, UF has an amazing campus. It's incredibly huge, has excellent programs, and more clubs than you can count. Plus, Go Gators! National College Football Champions 2008. It's ranked in one of the top 20 public universities in the nation, and it's deemed as a kick-ass party college. As soon as the tour guide mentioned they had five Starbucks around campus, I was sold.

The orange and blue colors will take some getting used to, though.

That's about it. Oh, and always check the toilet before you sit on it.

God, I hate sharing bathrooms with my brother.

Three more years of High School.

I've got a new favorite song. It's "Sometime around Midnight" by The Airborne Toxic Event, and it's video is really something special. In fact, I watched it this morning right before my jog on AM MTV and I was completely taken aback by the wistful lyrics and the powerful, real voice of Mikel Jollet. One of the bands to watch out for this year.

I had this weird crystallizing moment that made me realize something that hadn't registered in my brain before: I'm a Sophomore. This can't be a blog about my freshman experiences in High School, because frankly, my freshman experiences blew. I mean, seriously, hardly any good parties. Jokes aside, looking back at this year I've come to the conclusion that I am one boring chick-a-dilly. I ought to go out more, but I'm as lazy as it comes.

There's always Sophomore year. :] Ahhh, I can anticipate some real good times, and I'm damn sure gonna make it a hell-fire year bursting with fun and funny things; preferrably teachers caked in donut filling.

C'mon, tell me you can't picture it.

Honestly, though, I can't seem to shake the doom and gloom (And all things that go Ka-boom!) feeling out of my head. Becoming a Sophomore entails a lot more than the rights to pick on the new freshmeats.

See, we're the ones who get flooded with letters reminding us about our SAT Prep Exams, the ones who are somewhat sandwhiched between grade levels. I mean, what the hell are we? We're not "Upper-Classmen," we barely pass the hygiene check. Our idea of fun is to hog the treadmill machines at the local YMCA, gathering in our little cliques and bother the crud out of the adults who are actually there to care for their personal fitness.

We're immmature, loud, and we can't face facts or save face. We're like little Michael Jacksons, moonwalking around walgreens with characeristically creepy smiles and incredibly pale faces. Which is ironic, I mean, this is Florida. But hey, what the hell, I love it! I can already see the adults blood boiling when we take our brother/sister's car out for a test drive.

So, in honor of my following year, I hereby proclaim this blog "The Sophomore Version". 'Tis about time I one-upped myself. So, it's official...

I'm a sophomore, baby. :D

Heh...Go lightning...

That happens to be our school mascot. A lightning bolt.

And it's freaking me out.

HOLY HELL.

It's been raining for 3 weeks straight and I'm just about ready to lose it.

The thunder and lightning here is driving me batshit insane because it HASN'T stopped, and it's at the point where you're pretty damn sure it's struck enough places once that the only spot it could possibly hit without breaking it's never-twice rule is YOU. But I suppose it's a good thing, right? Our wells have been rather dry and the rain was just a messed up prayer from some idiot who couldn't take the dry spell.

"Please, please, we can't survive without water. God, let it rain and never stop!" Me: You Asshole.

I forgot what the sun looked like. Sigh. You know, once it's summer and you've nothing else to occupy your time other than Keeping Up With The Kardashians re-runs and a vat of Ben and Jerry Ice cream, you realize why summer really sucks ostrich eggs. (Those are some big huevos, my friends). First off, it is never a guarantee that you will see your friends and hang out like you promised on the very last hour of school while you held hands and sang "Kumbaya" with her and 37 of your other homosexual friends. It's frustrating because I live in some stuck-up rich suburbia whose pompous ass couldn't fit in through a revolving door even if you buttered up the sides with vaseline. AND in stuck-up rich suburbias with imaginary fat bums, everybody is always traveling because their fat wallets can take the hit.

And that makes me mad, for lack of a better word, 'cause then I'm all alone in my little corner, stacking up shelfs at the library wondering if the splinters in the books shelves are sharp enough to slit my wrists. That was joke, I'm not suicidal. At least, not now...Give me another month and we'll see where I'm at.

Alright, well, when the going gets tough, the tough gets going. So, I'm going to look up every possible fun thing to do by yourself for the summer. Starting with longer guitar classes, soccer training, and volunteering at the library. And the whole re-inventing myself thing will happen as soon as the rain lets up and I can run again...If that ever happens.

Spare me the endless irony

It's irony, and it's fucking brilliant.

Turns out, I am ADHD-positive. Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder of the Inattentive Type. Basically, I can't pay attention to save my life. Literally. I could be driving a car, simultaneously texting my friend about this other girl who's a total ditz and wore green for Freshmen step-up day and everybody knows you're not supposed to wear green on step-up day because THAT, my friends, is anarchy to the herierarchical system that is supported in High School, which is like bitch-slapping god while wearing neo-nazi swastika patches at your local Wal-mart! Dammit, what is WRONG with you, you goddamn spaz!

BOOM.
Car crash.
...and they said it wasn't terminal.

Anyways, the results were in just this morning. So, I've been put on Ritalin for a couple weeks to test for any side effects; it's a pretty low dosage, 27 milligrams.

You know what my worst fear is when I take the pill?

I think I might just lose myself. Call me crazy, but whenever I space out and my mind is reeling with the insights of my imagination, I feel like myself. Without that, I'd have no fuel to harbor my creativity, neither the strength to. I'm afraid that if I focus for once in my life, I wouldn't like what I see.

" I see my life as what I would like to see happen, not what actually does."
And along comes Ritalin to take it all away.

*Sigh*, my friends did always think I should be medicated.

Anyways, enough with that. On to Finals! Yes. Finals. The single reason why all teens should be on anti-depressants. Thankfully, I do okay in my classes. 2 A's, 1 B+ and a single C...In Math. So, if I keep riding this wave long enough, I might just make it long enough to see the daylight of summer. Hoo-rah! I can't wait. :]

Oh, I got a haircut. Hehe. YES! The short one I was hoping for. It doesn't look like the photo, but in my opinion, MUCHO better. It's short-ish (doesn't even reach my shoulder blades), it's messy and it's uber sexy. And so much easier to take care of. Oh.So.Much.

Hmm, what else did I miss? Nope. Got nothin' else to say. Who'da thunk?

-The now-medicated Tai.

When you're on a hooolidayy...

I'm learning how to play "Island in the Sun" by Weezer, which is tre magnifique! Actually, I already have the main chord progression down.

It's Em, Am, D, G. I D DUDD UU UDD I (Up, Down)

(By the way, the picture to the right shows a G chord.)

And that's basically it. Simple, right? Haha. It's the first song I'm actually learning, which is a step-up from just learning chords. I might just have a future in the music business, which excites me. :]

It's good that I'm taking a break, though, because FCATS put me through hell. But now they're over, and I think I did rather well. I'm not sweating it. Right now I'm just thinking of some good-old band names.


My Current Winning List:


Close But No Cigar
The Jig's Up!
In Like Flynn


...And that's it. Happy joy-joy. Night' guys. :]