| [ |
music |
| |
a big bag of nothing |
] |
How odd, it's been a long time since I've posted and I didn't even realize it. Since we last spoke, my aunt and cousin Tyler came over, my cousin, mom, and I went to Disney World for a day, then to LA, then back home.
I have mixed feelings about LA. The first time I went, I didn't really like it. I was hanging out around Hollywood, and Hollywood is disgusting. Even Beverly Hills is sort of cheesy. When compared to Miami, that whole area's a bit of a shit show.
Santa Monica is very nice though. People use the grassy medians to do crunches and push ups. There's an area on a hill made entirely of steps where you can see the hills across the way - it's called The Stairs and people use it to exercise.
The beach of Santa Monica, in my mind, is lame, because you can't really swim in it for the majority of the year, it's crowded, and all pretty public. I'm sounding like a huge snob. ... I don't really care.
What is cool about it is that there's a forty mile bike path that goes from Malibu down Santa Monica down to Venice. We took it one day, hearing that Venice was a neat place to go.
Venice is disgusting. It's like a fair ground. It literally had a freak show. It smelled like poop. I rest my case.
The famous Santa Monica pier was also disgusting. Actually, the rides seemed to be in good working order, and I really enjoyed them, but the people there who pissed me off. I was with my little cousins, Paul and Lily, who are both still in Elementary school (well, Paul's going into 6th grade but whatever). There was this group of high schoolers with the biggest gauges I had ever seen - maybe two inches in diameter. They kept giving Paul and Lily dirty looks and cussing without any regard. I hate people like that.
Another upside, though, was Pinkberry. It's a low fat frozen yogurt shop with fresh fruit and it was one of the best things I've ever tasted. At first it was kind of tart, it really just tasted like vanilla yogurt, but I had raspberries and kiwi mixed in and the fruit made the yogurt even sweeter. Plus it was actually good for me? A real dessert that's actually good for me? Needless to say, we got that shit twice. The only have them in California with ONE place in the village in NYC that I'd seen before - Emily Stainkamp, take note. Pinkberry is religiously good.
Hm, what else? I checked out their urban, and when trying to find my cousin and brother at the men's floor walked into what I'd like to refer to as the "tool box." Tool shed would work, too. Imagine fifteen kids, none above the age of 18, wearing: skinny jeans, huge nike shoes that create that lovely juxtaposition between their shin size and foot "size", hat perched perfectly off their head, and long, scruffy ass hair. I was like, oh yeah. I forgot what tools are like. Carolina definitely has its share of tools, but they're the classic, preppy variety, and are more accessible and interesting to me than this particular, self loathing flavor.
I forgot to mention that before we went to LA I baked chocolate meringue pies. I finally, FINALLY got it down. It wasn't too salty at all, the meringue tasted very good and the texture was perfect, we didn't have any egg problems, blah blah. Yay.
Back to LA. So Patrick got a job working at Lion's Gate films, which has my mom upset. With Eric now moving to Jerusalem for a year and then after that who knows, Patrick finally truly leaving the nest, and me off for a month long trip to Europe alone, well, it has her saying things like, "It hurts when your chicks leave" a lot. When we left, my mom started crying when she said goodbye to Pat. Her crying made me cry, but I didn't want anyone to see that I was crying because that'd be weird. Then we went to say goodbye to Eric and Elina and my mom starts crying again! Understandable, definitely, but I was trying to talk to Elina, and when I hear my mom kind of whimper I have an automatic reaction to start crying myself. I can't help it. It's my mommy and she feels sad. :( So I was like (while my mom's hugging Eric and her voice is all cry-ey) "It was great to see you... Elina. I, uhm, good luck!" Then I just turned away too dramatically trying not to show that I was crying. Then Eric came and hugged me and there were definitely tears, which I wanted to hide, so I tried to get an extension on the hug so I could take the time to recollect myself. So Eric and I had a very long, somewhat overly emotional hug. Then I just ran to the car.
I'm sure everyone noticed, but damn. I still haven't had that I-hate-it-when-people-see-me-crying thing leave me. I figured it out, though.
I wouldn't mind if people saw me cry, if my crying weren't so... obvious. It's not the tears, it's the voice, and it's the unpredictability of it. My throat ties itself into a knot, so when I speak when I'm crying, I sound like Miss Piggy, and if I try and muffle that, then I sound like a monster. No one would ever say to me, I hate it when you cry, but it's kind of cute. No. That would never happen. That's more likely to be replaced with "and it's kind of scary," or, "and I didn't know you had that in you." Yuch. Of course, I only weep during movies, so at least I don't have to worry about it happening to often.
I want to change the subject. I didn't see any celebrities, and frankly, was annoyed. I'm not sure what LA is good for if you can't see famous people. I understand that this entire post sounds pretty ignorant, but let me tell you, I am fully aware of it and don't really care.
Now I'm back home, and onto an entirely different pressing emotional manner, I am going to England THIS FRIDAY. I've got some shopping for travel stuff to do, some maps to print out (I'm not bringing my laptop), etc. I woke up late this morning, which pisses me off, so I'll have to make up for that.
Other things to say -
I saw Be Kind Rewind. I got angry while I watched it because the directing was very fun, but the soundtrack distracted from the goodness of the film. In fact, it actually kind of ruined it. The soundtrack was out of rhythm with the dialogue and what was going on, if that makes any sense, and took away the focus from what was going on. I've never seen a soundtrack fuck a movie up so badly.
My feet are really messed up. This whole year they've done nothing but cause problems. Okay, that's a little harsh. Now I feel like I should apologize or something. Anyway, when I first got to school I broke out into the blisters of a lifetime. My foot was FILLED with them, and then, pretty much for the entire school year, I couldn't wear but three or four pairs of shoes without getting blisters. Finally I felt like they were back to normal, but then I saw that my heels were peeling pretty terribly. Apparently my blisters had healed and left me with tons of callouses. Imagine the aesthetic. I tried pumice stone, I tried vaseline, finally I brought that shit to the Pedicure Doctor. You know what they did? They took a razor and shaved off the dead skin. I watched as they grated my feet like cheese and I felt absolutely nothing. This is so gross and I love it. I looked down and there was a huge PILE of shavings, all from my foot. It actually felt good while they did it.
Well, now not only are my feet now extra sensitive to temperature (actually maybe they're appropriately sensitive but I abused them before) but they're still peeling. There's nothing I can do. At least they don't smell. I always have that to comfort me. I don't have stinky feet.
The end!
|