I feel like the world's biggest waste of time. I know I promised you guys a special feminism entry, but I just gotta write stuff. I'll type it next entry if you remind me.
Anyway, first off, just to get it out, little miss I hate America from my last entry accused American media of not showing the whole truth, and I told her that I hadn't seen the pictures of American soldiers abusing Iraqi people. Turns out that she was probably one of the last people in the world to be informed, and these pictures and stories have been circulating American news shows and papers for weeks now, I just haven't been paying attention. I paid attention this morning when Donald Rumsfeld talked about giving a public apology, and what kind of punishment this handful of soldiers now face. Like it or not, Bush critics, there are bad people on earth, not just America. And this group doing this was a minority of a much larger army, and they face serious punishment for making our country look so bad to foreigners. Now I feel stupid because I thought I was so news-savvy, and never realised how very little of the news I ever get to see anymore, what with homework and all.
So none of you can ever accuse Americans of being uninformed, it's only teens without time like myself that don't have a clue. And that's only feeding my insecurities all of a sudden.
Another thing: I've raved about it, I've defended it, and I'll never get to see it... in theatres, at least. Yeah, Eternal Sunshine has been dropped from all my local theatres, and I don't know if they'll ever bring it to Cinema Cafe (a local movie/restaurant that plays older movies), so I doubt that I'll ever get to see it on a big screen. Sucks for me, I guess. I've been waiting two months, it was supposed to be my birthday movie. My parents (well, my dad and brother) complained about having to see it because they didn't want to, so I always felt foolish to ask. Then my brother's always like, "You only want to see it because it's got that queer actor of yours in it." Firstly, he's not queer, and even if he were, that's not a kind thing to call him. Secondly, his character doesn't even have a last name, how big do you think he could be? Thirdly, that's a very small portion of why I wanted to see it. But no one cares now, it was just a measley movie. I guess what really hurts my feelings about it is because my dad pretty much all but said my tastes are poor, that my love of movies is stupid, but he did flat out say he didn't want to see it. So these are my choices: Kill Bill Volume 2 (keeping in mind that I love Tarantino, but haven't seen the first installment) or Van Helsing (keeping in mind that I'm a Hugh Jackman fan, and as flashy as this movie looks, it doesn't look as good as Eternal Sunshine). So, here's your interaction: what should I go see?
On top of that, I hate physics. More than my intense hatred of math of any sort is my hatred of Physics. I brought up my history grade, but I'm afraid my physics grade is slipping below passing-point. I really have to work hard in there from now on. And look at me, I'm crying my stupid eyes out online, and I really don't know why. I'm so worried about that class, but I don't care about it at all. Does that make sense? I just hate it. I wish I had dropped it for something more... fun. I know school isn't supposed to be fun, but c'mon.
On top of that, the cello section has never sounded worse. I'm not being self-loving here, but the girl that took my chair is a complete idiot. She can't play. Her insolence is driving me insane. I just gave up today. Just gave up. I barely put my bow to the string, because I wanted to see how we'd sound without me leading. Okay, I wasn't there on Monday, which was the previous Orchestra class day. That day we received Elton John music, and everyone practised it then. So today I was sightreading without even trying to play. Even being a day behind and not trying, I was better than she was. And the teacher kept yelling at us, "What have you done with my beautiful cello section?" And the violas yelled, "It's second chair's fault, put her back where she belongs!" (jokingly, of course), and she'd laugh and said, "Oh, yeah, all my fault." Then first chair had to leave for a few minutes, so this girl had to lead our section. She barely put her bow to her string because she had no idea of what to play, so I played out as loudly as I possibly could. I lead from fourth chair. She knows I'm better than she is. The teacher knows I'm better than she is. But I can't rechallenge her because it's the week before the last concert, it's not allowed. And that smug reply, "Oh, yeah, it's all my fault," made me feel like she was directing the problem at me. So, it's true, we sounded badly because I wasn't playing. But I would've played if I had back my chair.
And all I could think the entire bell was how the teacher almost hit me with his car.
I'm probably really overacting about all of this, probably just being paranoid about the car thing, and maybe I'm just really bad at playing and I don't know it. Maybe I'm just bad at everything I thought I was good at. Maybe white is black and black is white, up is down and left is right. And maybe the floating head of Colonel Sanders will tell me that everything I know is wrong. Not to quote Weird Al or anything.
Sometimes I wish life were like (a box of chocolates... sorry, I had to) a Romantic period novel. It would be so easy to figure things out that way. Everything means something else, everything serves a symbolic purpose. I wish I could see that little girl on my sub-bus today, drawing me the pictures of squid, as a beacon of hope, as a sign of good times ahead. But I can't. All I saw was that cute little girl drawing pictures for me. I wish I could see the flowers finally blooming in my backyard as proof that everything takes awhile to blossom. But I can't. They're already wilting because of the suddenly cold weather. And I wish that the heavens did match my moods, because I wish the skies would break and thunder would crash and a rain would wash away all the sorrows from the cold pavement outside of my window. But it won't, because it's a lovely day. And it already rained on Monday.
The day I almost got hit by a teacher's car.
I wish it were Tuesday. It would give me more time until Friday to finish painting my ceramics projects. A transformed shoe (I made the front of it look like a Jaguar... the car), a plate of Spamwiches equipped with a can of Spam, and a box. The box has symbolism on all four sides. I made a rose, like the Rose of Trulee, because I love my heritage, on one side. I made a field of grass and a house and sheep on another side. Then I made a plain of sand, dunes of orange, under a bright orange sun on another side. And on the final side I made a knarled old tree, bare branches sticking out every which way. It's an old, rotten brown with hints of metallic gold in all the right places, and it's all black in the backround. And on the top is a figure with long legs and long arms, thin, and a girl with her head turned up, and her chin on her knee. She's painted like an old bronze statue, silver and bronze, and bits of green. And she's sitting on a lawn of green grass, just sparkling like it's got dew on the tips. She's got no eyes or hair or mouth, but I worked really hard on her, she's crafted in perfect proportion and detail. But she was too hard to attach to the clay lid, and she came off after it was fired. I have to glue her on now. If you don't get it, she's supposed to be me.
And I got a 100 on my Gandhi pot. He's still creepy looking, though.
Umm, what else? I feel like, as somepeople might say, as though I've become the "pond scum of the universe." Pond scum only to be raked out with ugly little nets and dumped in the garbage can so that the pretty fish can breathe. Why can't I be a pretty fish *sob*? That, by the way, was sarcasm. Sarcasm that was still kinda meant, but sarcasm nonetheless.
I was gonna talk about how straight-edged I feel around some of my friends lately, but I'm quite done wasting your time on here. I think my brother wants to play Sims, anyway. Maybe I can steal his viola and practise horizontal vibrato. Not that it matters. I'm just gonna suck at it anyway. Maybe someone else will hit me with his (or her) car if I dare try. I'd better stick to my physics homework, then.
Oh, and last night I watched Shawshank Redemption last night. It was really good. If anyone wants to know the theme, here it is as far as I interpret it: all of the men that are freed from prison think that their lives on parole scare them because they have become so institutionalised that they depend on the walls of the prison, and can't live outside of them. Morgan Freeman learns that the reason he was scared when he was freed wasn't because he was too used to prison, it was because he wasn't really free at all, because his life as an ex-con isn't free, it's another form of bondage, and he was scared because he may never break out of his chains. There it is, cut and dry. It's a beautiful movie, really. I recommend it for everybody. Oh, and I'm officially a Tom Cruise fan. I'm coming out of the Tom Cruise fan closet of sorts, I'm admitting it. It was Far and Away that converted me. Plus he set up a 9/11 fund, so he's gotta be cool. So, yes, I don't have to hide it.
Maybe that's why I feel so bad. So today's title is from Far and Away. Nicole Kidman decides to go with Tom Cruise to America. Couldn't blame her. Toodles.
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