"What are you

on about?"



Ughhh...I will never forget how I won tickets to the last MCR tour before they went into their break from these guys over myspace-and not being able to accept them do to not telling my mom my movie ran late.

C'est La Vie as Alia would say.

I am really glad MCR is out again. They did a Dylan cover for the movie adaptation of Watchmen which I am hoping to see sometime soon. I like most of Zack Snyder's films. He did both 300 and a remake of Dawn of the Dead.

Oh! I haven't talked about that yet!

I was very pleased to remember that the original creator and setting of the Dead films are Pennsylvania packed. George Romero is obviously inspired by his 'burgh heritage. He was born in New York, but went to Carnegie Mellon (same college as my parents). He set all of his films in PA, and it just kinda makes my heart warm. Having Pittsburgh and Monroeville and other rural places in PA be the setting of the film industries most well known zombie franchise just makes me full of home state pride.

So, part two of my hometown memories:



This guy is just hysterical to listen to. He reminds me of my grandfather and his phone. Does little bits of video to send to his buddies.

This is in a store called Kraynaks, which is basically your store you would shop at if you were ages 60-80 and a woman. It is seriously a screaming sale for old cat ladies. I can't lie. But I used to love it for two reasons. First, which I am most fond of, was their set up of Thomas the Tank Engine train set. It was my favorite place to go to play. I would call it Trainaks when I was little. Then around Christmas, that tunnel in the video was a family must visit. It just kinda seems like that is a part of Disneyland that was moved to middle of no where PA.

I have found a new addiction. Trader Joes Chicken Fried Rice. It is great. A microwavable stir fry.

Oh! I haven't said this either. I have short hair now. I got it cut a few weeks ago, and it is the shortest it has been in almost 4 years. It's nice though. I think I am actually going to keep it this way, along with not dying it black anymore. It's pretty nice. My face is visible.

Also, today was my first day back from break. Besides bombing a quiz, I think it went pretty well. I feel great due to after school though. I came home and hopped in the shower (it is pushing the summer heat digits). Then I took my after school Ritalin and did something that made me feel great: did my homework. It doesn't seem like that big of a deal to most people. To most, it is something that comes naturally. Not for me, and it has been that way for years. But today I sat down and just did it all. I honestly felt like crying because it was like a huge load was lifted from my shoulders. It seriously felt like I accomplished the highest degree of medical school after I put everything back into my backpack. I felt extremely proud of myself. I also had the time to take out the recyclables without being asked, write a little more of reflect (first day of writers block though, so not much was accomplished there), and read a little further in Les Miserables for English. This all sounds pretty childish, really. All of these things are usually discovered when you are in Middle School and you are actually managing your time and all of that, but Middle School was a little rough for me. Considering at the very beginning of it I had a certain experience I wish to never encounter again kinda set me off track, the rest of the duration was very minimal. It sorta hurts to say that the most I ever tried in Middle School was in 8th grade when my writing would reflect my appreciation and adaptation to the humanities of the English course. I think that was when I decided that I want to do my own thing. I still have every paper Mr. Reed (my 8th grade English teacher) graded. Every paper he left me notes saying how he loved my way with words in the essays, and how he just loved watching as my poetic abilities flourished with each turn. I don't think that I have felt this good about school work since that point.

I was reading this book called Fallen Angels, and it is about an African American soldier in Vietnam. I remembered reading a part where his squad was to do an emergency sweep of the Vietcong attacking a village and all of the horrors they encountered there. It was then when it hit me: Mr. Reed was in Vietnam. I knew he was. I never had the guts to ask him about it. I wouldn't want to resurface any memories that he might have suppressed, but at the same time I wanted to know what he had gone through. He shared stories about what he experienced in everyday life and how we should take them and cherish them all. Something just told me that he had seen more than he shared, and I don't blame him at all for not sharing. I just really wish I could sit down and talk to him about it.

In Rockland, there was this shop for sort of Eastern artifacts and merchandise. I walked in and simply browsed and ended up buying a Tibetan Buddhist incense holster. The woman working there was interested to see me there and gave me this white cloth that is given out of respect in the culture. She said it was because she respected my youth, but also the respect and interest I took in her culture. When I heard many of Mr.Reed's stories, I slowly began to admire him more and more. Then I remembered the cloth. I remember wrapping it up and placing it in my backpack, then going to his class. I waited for everyone to leave, then took it out and explained it to him. I then gave him the cloth. It was a very deep moment. We had a few tears and one of those hugs where it is one armed, but extended. He still has it to this day, and it has almost been three years.

I have a piece of artwork I would like to give to my dad, but I'm not sure yet. I still might add some stuff or at least give it a nice support. I have no use for it though. Might as well give it away. I'm not sure what he would do with it, but it just sorta seems like I should send him it because it is a piece of work that he can actually relate to.


I just talked indirectly to my father when he is one of the few people who actually reads this.
I feel so cool.