Dreams, Again

I don't even have enough time to ramble about school or anything else unrelated to what I came here to talk about. So let's just leave it at this: I have no fucking time and I'm under so much pressure and I am the epitome of a stressed out catastrophe. Got it? Good.

Last night I only got about five hours of sleep, but I had two dreams, I want to get them in writing, like I usually do, before I forget. In the first dream, I was with my sister, my best friend Marisa, and her younger sister Katie. Our mothers dropped us off in front of a large building that looked like a cross between an abandoned factory and a run down school. It was evening, but the sky was more gray than dark blue. Everything looked surreal, as if I was trapped inside a video game. Everything I saw and touched glinted and shone as if painted on. The four of us had some sort of mission to complete in the cafeteria, and we were supposed to do it quickly, so we took off running. I'm convinced I was in a video game in my dream, because my legs felt controlled and mechanical, and most of all, distant and unreal. I was a puppet controlled an unseen puppeteer. We found the cafeteria and there were a lot of lights. That's all I remember. I remember the four of us mostly running around aimlessly and not getting anything accomplished, like in those video games where you're playing with another person and you can't leave the screen's view unless they're following. You'll end up running in place. Eventually we finished our mission. Whatever it was, I don't know. But afterwards we caught glimpses of two people we did not know, both of whom looked like a cross between a custodian and a security guard. We decided to play a Breakfast Club-esque game and see how long we could run around before one of them noticed us. We ran for a long time, at least two hours, all of us taking separate routes to make the game last longer. What was weird was that even as I was running by myself, I knew where Christie, Katie, and Marisa were. It was as if there was a small camera in my head that allowed me to peek into their lives. After, as I said, hours of jogging around this strange building, the four of us met up at the top of the stairs. We ran back down (we must really love running) to the first floor because our mothers were out there. Just as we passed a room, we realized, too late, that one of the two men was in there. We started sprinting, but the man was tall and his long strides easily caught up with my short, quick ones.
"What are you doing here?" he huffed.
"We finished the mission." My voice was cold and sharp, not at all like how I would usually address an intimidating man.
"You should have done that hours ago."
"We did." As if on cue, Marisa, Katie, and Christie caught up with me and we bolted ahead of the man. I winked at him.
We burst through the doors leading outside to see our mothers standing against the gray sports car they apparently owned. My mother was smoking a cigarette, even though she quit smoking in her twenties.
"What the fuck took you so long?" she growled. "Standin' out here for hours, dammit."
"It doesn't matter. We're done now," I answered.
The man, who I hadn't realized was beside me until now, spoke up. "I brought 'em out for you, ma'am." He tipped his hat, and I rolled my eyes in response.
"No, you didn't," I argued. "You followed us out."
My mother shot a glare at me.
"Why thank you, kind sir." She tossed the cigarette on the concrete in front of her and smothered it with her foot.

That was all.

My second dream took place at Starbucks, except everything was either red or maroon. Around Christmas, Starbucks had started giving out red cups with snowflakes on them instead of their normal cup. All of the walls were painted this color now, and the inside of the building was shaped like a lightning bolt. There was a counter where you could order a drink and two-person tables along the jagged walls, but in the middle were lab tables, the kind you see in high school biology and chemistry classes. I was sitting at one of the biology lab tables in the middle of the cafe, with my friend Raksha drinking a coffee to my left. She was chattering away, like her normal self, but all I could hear was my father's loud voice echoing in my ears. He was standing behind me, and I wondered who he could possibly be talking to, and why he was even at Starbucks in the first place. I turned around to glare at my father and noticed for the first time who he was talking to: Tyler's mother. I froze for a second and then tore my eyes away. She was a short woman, oddly enough, considering her whole family was above six feet. She had hair exactly like my mother's except a shade lighter. My mother went to high school with her, but I've always been scared to look her in the eye. As if, by just one look, she would be able to see through me and understand the real reason I went to church every Saturday: because I was irrevocably in love with her younger son.
So I turned away immediately, my face losing color. I pushed my drink away from me and Raksha immediately noticed.
"What? What?" she asked. Then she turned around. "Oh, oh, whatever! Whatever! Don't worry!" She pushed back her stool and began to do something in front of our lab table. I don't remember if it was a dance or a song or something...but she was trying to divert my attention away from who else was inevitably behind me. Ignoring Raksha's useless effort, I turned around the other way, and sure enough, there was Tyler. Looking at him felt like a kick to the stomach, as it has been feeling like that lately. I glanced briefly up at his face just as he looked at me. There were no smiles exchanged between us, just like church last Saturday. We just looked at each other, and then looked away. In my dream, however, after I turned around, Tyler said, "Hey." I turned only halfway around on my stool.
"Hey," I said quietly. My God, I sounded like a tortured animal.
"Isn't this the most god awful thing you've ever seen?" Tyler obviously didn't take note. I looked up and noticed that he had a large dry cleaning bag in his hand, and he unzipped the front to reveal a monstrously huge sweater. It was tan with a picture of Mickey Mouse on the front, and for a second I thought of Two-Bit. but I didn't mention that. Instead I said, "It's not horribly ugly." Tyler leaned forward a bit and cocked an eyebrow. My mind was stuck on Two-Bit, still, and controlling my shaking hands.
"Come on," he said. "Honestly." He shoved the sweater so it was right in front of my eyes.
"Okay." I gave in, pushing it back towards him. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "It is horribly ugly."
"Most god awful ugly as hell thing you've ever seen?"
"Absolutely." I glanced back at Raksha, who appeared to be performing an extravagent one woman dancing routine, and decided to get up and stand next to Tyler. We made quick small talk, but mostly we listened in on the conversation my father and his mother were having. I don't remember what they said, but their conversation was finished too soon. Tyler's mother said they had to go, and promptly walked out of Starbucks.
"Well, I gotta go," he said, patting my father on the shoulder. I didn't know they knew each other. Then he turned to me and bent down a little to hug me, his arms around my waist for only a brief second before he pulled back. I thought stupidly that maybe he was as smart as his mother, and he feared that if he hugged me, I would never let go. So he pulled back before I had a chance to hug him back. "See ya," he said, turning around to walk away, his mind already erasing the past fifteen minutes from his memory, his eyes already forgetting my face.

Stress Lifted Only To Have More Put Back On

Don't you just love how life works like that? I had so much stuff to study for and projects to work on this week, but luckily I had one snow day and a delay following that, so the week didn't seem as long. I feel accomplished because I think I scored pretty high on my spanish test, and I got a 100 on my English quiz. (Not that we do anything in that class anyway.) I finished my biology project two days early, and handed in my photojournalism project today. I still have tests and quizzes next week and I have to make up my midterm study guides for my classes but I'm taking tonight off. It feels good to relax. I'll probably read more later, as soon as I log off the computer.

Tomorrow it's supposed to snow six to ten inches, which is good, because I love snow, but it will probably keep me inside all day. That isn't such a bad thing though, because I'll get more work done that way. Marisa and I want to make plans again this weekend so as soon as I figure out whether I'm seeing her tomorrow or Sunday, I need to get my work done around that.

It's funny in a nice sort of way how you can spend days with someone you love and think you're going to grow tired of each other, but it turns out that as soon as you separate, you're missing them already.

In completely random and insignificant news, Jeff Thomas drawings are pretty much my favorite...

Second Snow Day!

Today was the second snow day we've had all year. I woke up and heard rain pattering against my house, so I didn't think we were going to get the day off. I heard it was supposed to snow from yesterday evening into the early morning, and then it would freeze over and possibly turn into rain by late morning. I was on the verge of getting out of bed when I realized my parents were downstairs, and I had woken up on my own accord. Which never happens during the week. So I looked at my clock and noticed it was 8:45 AM. 

It was such a good feeling to revisit: being refreshed and getting a good amount of sleep. I know it's only been two days since break ended, but still, I got more sleep last night than I did in the past two night combined. Did I mention that I fell back asleep with my book in my hand at 9:15 and slept till 11:15?

That was pretty great.

But don't be too jealous if you didn't have the day off. I started working on my bio project (that's due Friday) at 2 PM and didn't finish until quarter after 6. But hey, at least I got it done! I really needed the day off to work on my long term projects and such. It was a productive day.

In other random news, I have to do an insights project on one song that was made between 1963 and 1973. 

Key word being ONE song.

I know nothing about 60's music, so I asked my dad. He threw about 20 CDs at me. They're sitting in a monstrous pile on my dresser.

Then he came up to my room with 10 more records.

OUR RECORD PLAYER DOESN'T EVEN WORK!

Oh, well, I guess that's where I get my love for music.

Theories on Donnie Darko

Before I forget, I need to save these theories somewhere, for when I watch the movie next time:

xnoxrewindsx (8:12:30 PM): YOU SAID YOU HAD NEW THEORIES.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:12:43 PM): about?
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:12:57 PM): Donnie Darko?
xnoxrewindsx (8:13:26 PM): yez.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:15:24 PM): Okay well, one of the first things I thought I understood was that Frank was the only one who time traveled. I know that much is true, but I figured it out because when he took off his mask, his right eye was bleeding and swollen, which is what happens when Donnie shoots him. BUT then I realized than Donnie stabs the mirror directly where's Frank's right eye is. So I know that Frank is the one time traveling but I just got lost as to how Frank's eye was like that, which incident it came from. Maybe both, I don't know.
xnoxrewindsx (8:16:48 PM): I just always assumed it was the gunshot wound, because there was, like a forcefeild when he tried to stab frank
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:17:58 PM): True, but I think Frank's head kind of bounced back at the mirror part, and there's that growing white light which could mean Donnie was breaking through the field. I dunno, I'm just overthinking that.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:18:02 PM): Another thing is
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:20:09 PM): I was wondering why Frank even cares enough to go through all the time traveling to give Donnie that choice. Besides being the bunny, his actual character didn't seem too significant. I was thinking that he was feeling guilty because he was the one who ran over Donnie's girlfriend and this was a way of easing his conscience. That way, no matter what Donnie chose, he technically couldn't be blamed because by that point it's more Donnie's fault than his, if he chooses for all that to happen.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:20:39 PM): That's what I was thinking.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:21:15 PM): But then I realized that the piece of the plane falling was Frank's doing in the first place, so didn't he spark it all to begin with?
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:21:18 PM): But maybe...
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:21:23 PM): okay now i'm thinking out loud
xnoxrewindsx (8:21:38 PM): how long is this theory?
xnoxrewindsx (8:21:45 PM): okay okay okay, I got kicked off, what was the second theory?
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:21:58 PM): wait, what's the last thing you got?
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:22:08 PM): (and its not really a theory, it's just my random thoughts)
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:22:09 PM): haha
xnoxrewindsx (8:22:27 PM): no I got all of that
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:22:38 PM): you got everything so far?
xnoxrewindsx (8:23:01 PM): mhm
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:23:17 PM): okay but maybe
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:23:22 PM): maybe everything would have happened anyway
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:23:31 PM): it wasn't dependent on the piece of the plane crashing
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:23:52 PM): that was just the what Frank needed to provide Donnie with the choice at the end.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:25:42 PM): So now I guess I'm back to my original idea, that Frank was trying to clear his conscience. But I still want to know if he accessed all the time travel information from Roberta Sparrow, and I also want to know how Roberta Sparrow got that in the first place. She seems to be the one who started it, and the professor said it was like she changed overnight, literally, so something must have gotten to her. I want to know what happened.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:26:24 PM): I never understood why she was always checking her mailbox but maybe she knew that letter from Donnie was going to come, she just didn't know when.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:26:32 PM): But how would she know that, you know?
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:26:36 PM): Okay, one more thing:
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:27:35 PM): When I was reading the synopsis for the movie, it said that Frank the bunny was provoking Donnie to commit all those vandalisms and crimes, but I don't think so. It seemed more like he was just showing Donnie what he was going to do.
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:27:59 PM): I iz done. I think.
xnoxrewindsx (8:28:24 PM): okayz
WishWashedAwayx3 (8:28:46 PM): feedback?
xnoxrewindsx (8:29:30 PM): Well, that's what I saw it as...Donnie seeing the future and feeling either the need to fufill it, or feeling that he didn't have a choice

I NEED ANSWERS.

Time Travel

Now, I'm the farthest you can get from being a scientist. I can barely call myself a biology student. And I'm sure there are many more educated people out there who can explain the dynamics of time travel, weigh the pros and cons, and probably provide you with an armful of nonfiction books about it.
But last night, while I was having trouble sleeping, I was scrolling through the artists on my iPod. I couldn't decide what to listen to, and sometimes that is when you find the perfect album. Except you don't know it right away, but once it starts playing, you realize how perfect it is that you chose that album.

Maybe all of that just happens to me.

But this is what happened last night, when I was at a loss of what to listen to, and settled for the James Blunt's Back to Bedlam.

Listening to him again is probably the closest to time travel I will ever get. That's the beauty of music, really. There's something so amazing about how a song can take you back to a moment, or a day, or a year, and it almost feels like you're there, reliving it. You almost wish you're there. That's why we hold on to songs for so long. Songs that people remember from decades ago are thought of today because of how great and impactful they were during that time period. The key phrase is "that time period." They will always be a tribute to what was happening at the time the song was recorded. When I was younger, I never understood what my parents or grandparents meant when they said, "Oh, that takes me back." Now, I think I understand, Maybe not to that extent, because it's not as if I'm reminiscing from 50 years ago. But still, it's the same feeling.

I bought James Blunt's album when I was in 8th grade, just because I swooned over that hit single, "You're Beautiful." This was before the days where I previewed all the songs on iTunes beforehand and double and triple checked to make sure I really wanted this album before buying it. This was when I still carried around that red CD player with the holes that were made to look like bubbles. And the headphones that went all the way over my head. Before everyone had those little buds you could sneak in your ear when class got boring or you just weren't too engaged in that conversation with your friend. This was before my parents bought me my first iPod. This album was the first imported into iTunes, I was in the FYE in the Milford Mall, and when my dad took the CD from me, he was concerned because it had a parental advisory sticker on the back. I told him that a man who sings "You're Beautiful" can't have too much of a potty mouth. (Ironically, that song ended up being the one where he dropped the F bomb and I practically dropped my jaw.)

It was winter when I really got into that album. I would sit in the downstairs room and play it on the big stereo while my dad was stuck shoveling snow in the driveway. I knew this because when I sat up against wall, I could make out his figure through the shades covering the window. At the time it made me feel rebellious to see my dad working when I didn't have to, but now I feel bad for even feeling like that. We had the crappiest computer that was buried deep in the corner of our basement. The only light came from a single lightbulb hanging from a chain. I had seen enough scary movies (AKA Goosebumps movies) to know that I should stay away. The furnace was down there too, which I had convinced myself for years was a monster that made strange noises when you got too close.

So I decided to use the old laptop. Which was equally crappy. But I was satisfied.

I would lounge there, on the floor, downstairs, with a crappy laptop and the old house phone (before I dropped it in the toilet) cradled between my ear and shoulder. That was when I was close friends with Jessie, and Nicole was all of a sudden mad at me, so it was just me and Jess. We badmouthed her most of the time, saying how stupid she was because I didn't do anything, and she was such a slut, and she needed to grow up and--

I still loved her as a best friend, but I was upset. That was the kind of attitude I had back in 8th grade, I thought that if I masked my feelings with something neutral, like anger, then they weren't there at all. That was when Jessie and I wrote a fanfiction that, not surprisingly, bashed Nicole. We called it Barbara and Walter because we were too scared to write Nicole and Dally as the document title.

That was when I held onto my 7th grade yearbook like it was a lifesaver, because Tyler was going to high school now, and that small square picture was all I had left.
That was when I still believed we would work out.
That was when pictures like these could be found all over my wall and screensaver:

That was when school was easy as hell, and I didn't have to worry about going to college or finding a job or picking my major. That was when my sister and I could still hang out. As stupid as it sounds, I miss living in that separate world I lived in when I was twelve, when I sat by the front door on the phone again, and giggled, saying, "I can't believe I talked to you until 2 AM last night! Oh my god!" I remember being sprawled on the couch downstairs, chewing on that ugly watch I wore every day, when Jessie asked, "Are you tired or something? You're slurring." And I laughed so loud I thought my parents were going to wake up. "No," I replied, still giggling. "I'm chewing my watch!"

That was forever our inside joke. "Hey Laura, are you tired or just chewing your watch?" "Wait, what? I didn't catch that. Were you chewing your watch again?" "You and that damn watch, Laura, really."

I fell asleep almost thinking I was twelve again, being stupid and carefree, and writing lame fanfictions.

The boyfriend I would never have because fictional characters are just that: fictional.

Waking up this morning as a fifteen year old sophomore, having to face my load of schoolwork and the looming future...it was just about the most depressing thing I've ever done.

FML

I have to go back to school tomorrow. God, this sucks. It's sort of unfair that we get twelve nice, relaxing days off and then they drag us back into school for another five fucking months. Not only that, but I have a quiz on Tuesday in biology class, which I am going to fail, just for the record, and I still haven't gotten that test back, which I DEFINITELY failed.

Just for the record.

I'm procrastinating homework right now.

I wonder how many depressing Sundays I've spent blogging about how much I hate school/my life/everyone and everything.

I'm such a downer. 

Now that Christmas and the holidays are over, I want it to be summer more than ever. Up until now, I had no issue with winter except for the fact that my house was freezing all the time because my mom refuses to turn the heat on. But that's a different story. I welcomed snow and ice and all that...but now I just want it to be summer.

I woke up this morning and it was so sunny, I almost believed seasons could change overnight. Then I saw the remains of snow on the ground.

:|

Been Slackin'

I don't mean I've been slacking when it comes to blogging either, I mean with mostly everything else.
The only things I've done this Christmas break are read, watch movies, and spent almost the whole week with my best friend.
But I guess that's what vacations are for, right?
What sucks is that it's almost over. Oh my God. Only tomorrow and Sunday, and then the next day I am back at school, the last place in the world I want to be. Well, maybe not the last, but it's pretty far down the list. I don't want to face anything I have to do. God, I feel depressed just writing this.
I need to stop now.
I don't feel like writing this anymore.
Before I go, I just want to state my New Year's resolution. For the record, I never do this. Every year, my New Year's resolution is to not have a New Year's resolution.
Sometimes that makes me feel clever.
Other times it makes me feel uncommitted and lazy.
Sometimes I make a New Year's resolution and then when I break it, I pretend I never had one in the first place.
I am a horrible person.
But this year, for real, I have one. I'm going to lose 15 pounds, and keep it off.
It's going to happen.
Mark my words.
If it doesn't, someone can fucking smack me and call me all the names I deserve to be called.
Stupid.
Lazy.
Uncommitted.
Failure.

I will make it happen.

Completely off topic, but my sister is downstairs watching Girl, Interrupted. Apparently, she loves the movie now, even though she saw the second half first, on account of the fact that she fell asleep on my best friend's lap and missed the beginning. But now she's watching the whole thing, and making her boyfriend watch it too. I can hear bits and pieces from where I am, and I know what part she's at right now.
But for all the confidence I claim to have and for all the fear I provoke in this kid, my sister's boyfriend, I can't bring myself to go downstairs and watch it with them.