Take Off Your Makeup

Album of the Week- 9/8/05

2005-09-08T22:30:00.000-04:00

Howdy there. I hope all of your summers were lazy and full of much sleeping, because mine sure was and it summarily ruled. But alas, in September most of us have to drag our asses back to school... and this time, I'm a freshman. Again. There's something really familiar about trying to figure out maps to steer myself around campus, eating crappy cafeteria food, and people whooping and hollering for no reason: I went through the same thing four years ago. Oh, how I love the cycles of life...

So somewhere between all the running around required of a freshman in college (goddamnit! Who knew I'd want milk with my cereal? And a sponge with which to clean my dishes?), I've been listening to a ton of different music. Tom Waits, Cole Porter song collections, Jawbreaker, MC Hammer, Limbeck, the Weakerthans- I've acquired albums by all of these artists and I'm fully digging all of it. Well, especially MC Hammer because we're both so hood.

Out of all of the releases I've been shuffling through, though, I have to say that I have nothing but unadulterated appreciation for the Weakerthans' Reconstruction Site. I've been religiously listening to Left and Leaving since I got it a couple of years ago, but Reconstruction Site, the Canadian (score!) band's third release, really transcends all things about good music I thought I had previously known. It's seamless, from start to finish.

Jon K Samson is an absolutely fantastic writer, firstly. I cannot stress this enough. A writer who can set up a peculiar, ambiguous mood, as Samson often does on Reconstruction Site, and make it sound completely fitting with the music and the rest of the album is a talented writer. This album is full of experimentations with point of view, imagery, and word-play in general. For example, in the title track, Samson combines a bundle of snapshots with different moods. "And his father laughed and talked on the long ride home./ And his mother laughed and talked on the long ride home./ And he thought about how everyone dies someday." The surprising morbid streak is delivered so casually, coupled with images of a little boy enjoying a wedding, that the listeners can't help but catch it and turn it over in their heads. He does this several times, perhaps to ensure that you're still listening and thinking about everything he's saying.

Another favorite tune is "Plea from a Cat Named Virtute," a song written in the point of view of a cat asking his owner to, in so many words, lighten up. While it seems like a lighthearted tune about a cat who just wants to play instead of watching his owner mope, closer listening reveals Samson's deep literary understanding of the nuances of depression and anxiety. Does the theme sound familiar? Samson decided to channel and explain all of this through the wise (but purposely not jaded) eyes of a cat because, frankly, in the age of "I'm so angry/depressed I could kill myself/my ex-girlfriend/my teddy bear" music, do you really need one more song detailing depression?

The instrumentals also work perfectly with the music. On Left and Leaving there are a few songs I skip over (though for what it's worth, I feel slightly blasphemous every time I do), but it's only because of the incongruity of the music versus the words. Not so on Reconstruction Site. It's not so much music versus the words as it is music in conjunction with the words. "(Hospital Vespers)" is a tune that was recorded backwards. To accompany the muisc, the lyrics are conveying a sense that something is terribly awry. "A New Name for Everything" is a song pertaining to a strong desire to escape and travel, coupled with a country-esque riff...and I don't know about you, but when I hear a country-esque riff, the term "ramblin'" comes to mind (well, along with my four day tenure at Longhorn Steakhouse, but that's besides the point). It really does work flawlessly.

The smooth nature of the album would seemingly make it easy to sum up, but alas! It was impossible for me to find the correct wording until recently. There's so much packed into Reconstruction Site that after listening closely, it seems impossible to sum it up. However, if you take it as a collective and not a package of individual songs, it becomes a narrative, a kind of manifesto employing universal emotion and wisdom in Reconstruction Site make it something that anyone could enjoy.

Album of the Week- 6/27/05

2005-06-19T16:05:00.000-04:00

I think I have a thing for Canadians.

The Weakerthans are armed with one of the best lyricists in music today. Propagandhi makes me want to drive really fast and be angry with the way things are. Flashlight Brown makes me want to dance, party, and play Dungeons and Dragons.

Add Chixdiggit to that roster, because I haven't been able to get Pink Razors out of my CD player recently.

This album is no big deal- it's only the best summer record I've heard in years.

Almost every song is catchy and the hooks latch onto your brain and refuse to let go. For instance, I heard this album all of once before I got "Welcome to the Daiso," an ode to a two-dollar store, stuck in my head. After I became a little more familiar with the album, "I Remember You" quickly became my favorite track. There's something awesome about listening to a song that you know everyone could relate to. Everyone knows a "Christine," someone who's always unhappy and pessimistic about everything but obviously likes it there. The awesome thing about this song is its apparent mockery, which "Christine" doesn't seem to enjoy. Chixdiggit tells the listener almost flat out not to leave people like that alone, because there's too much joy in harrassing them. This message fits nicely into a brief tune full of smug, bratty lines that deliver much satisfaction.

The other awesome thing about this band is that, unlike Junior Senior, Chixdiggit is more capable of covering a variety of topics ranging from the peculiar phenomenon of online dating to backwards compliments and the total confusion that ensues when you can't really relate to someone.

One theme does seem to pervade throughout the entire album, though. Pink Razors is a disc comprised of mockery. Chixdiggit has a special knack for perfectly capturing the qualities they don't like about something or someone and subtly throwing them in there for the listener to get what they want out of it.

I've been told that this album isn't Chixdiggit's best work. Admittedly, I'm not too familiar with their catalog. All I know is that when I heard this CD, I fell in love. It's awesome, fun pop-punk to blast out of your (boyfriend's) car windows on a hot summer day. And because I JUST GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL AND SO IT'S OFFICIALLY SUMMER, it's totally the album of the week.

And for the same reason, you may actually get weekly updates now.

Album of the Week- 5/16/05

2005-05-16T23:10:00.000-04:00

Ever listen to a commercial jingle and think "Hm. I kind of want 51 tracks of this?"

No?

Neither did I. That is, until I heard Parry Gripp's For Those About To Shop, We Salute You, which is just that- seemingly bazillion tracks for any occasion, the subjects of which seem to range from sports to food to dippin' to beer and the list really does go on. There are a few certain truths about this CD, though. For one, the song "We're Gonna Kick Your Ass Today" will get stuck in your head at the most inappropriate times you could imagine. After that, you will enjoy "European Football" in all its cheesy techno glory so much you will feel that your humanity has been slightly degraded, but it hurts so good.

If you really need any more reason to go out and buy this, then take a moment to consider the album's uncharted educational value. For example, I've learned that more blades on a razor lends itself to a smoother shave, and that one donut a day is extremely important to your health. As for life lessons, Parry Gripp's really onto something with the idea that contentedness can really be boiled down to a "good woman" and a "good truck." The important moral messages and deep life philosophies rolled up into 51 silly, catchy, thirty-second tracks will not only keep you luahing, but make you want waffles. And light beer.

This is the polar opposite of Clay Aiken's song "Invisible," which is a sad tale detailing desires bordering on sick voyeurism and other things that make this country great, but that's another rant for another day...

In the meanwhile...do you like waffles?

Shitty Song of the Week- 5/9/05

2005-05-09T22:35:00.000-04:00

Well.

I haven't really been listening to a lot of albums, just mixes. For the record, I love the Methadones and Jay-Z. If that juxtaposition isn't slightly ridiculous, I don't know what is.

Here's what I've been doing instead of listening to music: school, convincing my dad that my attendance at Rutgers will not bring about the apocalypse, and working.

I'm a Subway sandwich slave, and in their attempts to satisfy customers they play the worst radio station on the air. Anywhere. Ever.

The station, Magic 98.3, is local. More importantly, it's awful. Occasionally, they play Huey Lewis and the News. When they're not playing Back to the Future music, they are playing "songs you know by artists you've heard of," which means while you sit and gain weight at the office, surfing the Myspace pages of slutty teenage girls while the network and IT guys sit back and sneer, you can have as little mental stimulation as possible.

Great.

Anyway, the worst song on the worst station, played at least six hundred times a day, is "Beautiful Soul" by Jesse McCartney. Jesus, what an atrocity.

This guy's voice reminds me of that of an American Idol reject: nasal, nondescript, and quiet. He has the most un-dynamic voice I've ever heard on the radio. At first, his mumbling can be mistaken for humming, and that's the only way this guy could have possibly gotten a record deal.

On top of his less-than-stellar voice, the song itself is terrible. It doesn't have a catchy hook anywhere in the song, and the lyrics are painful. The whole song is so monotonous and repetitive that before I wrote this, I asked someone sitting next to me if he was, in actuality, mentally handicapped because then there'd be an excuse for how god-awful this song is.

Here are the lyrics to "Beautiful Soul," in case you were wondering:

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

I know that you are something special
To you I'd be always faithful
I want to be what you always needed
Then I hope you'll see the heart in me

[Chorus]
I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

Your beautiful soul, yeah

You might need time to think it over
But im just fine, moving forward
I'll ease your mind
If you give me the chance
I will never make you cry c`mon lets try

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

Am I crazy for wanting you
Baby do you think you could want me too
I don't wanna waste your time
Do you see things the way I do
I just wanna know if you feel it too
There is nothing left to hide

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your soul

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul...

On and on and ON. If you are considering dropping your hard-earned dollars on the counter of your local FYE and saying "Please, Mr. Pawn of Evil Corporation, take my cash money and fetch me the Jesse McCartney album!" you should probably cut that shit out and replace "Jesse McCartney" with "Parry Gripp," because they are nothing alike but Parry Gripp's album, For Those About to Shop, We Salute You, is incomparably awesome.

Album of the Week- 4/10/05

2005-04-10T23:22:00.000-04:00

So, I'm really good at updating weekly. So good that I skipped the second week. Well, I tried twice to write up and publish a review of the Lawrence Arms' The Greatest Story Ever Told, but when neither attempts worked due to technical difficulties (my dreams consist of me getting a new computer) I figured it was God's way of saying "cut that shit out!"

Anyway, the weather's warming up. I've been waiting for this time of year since December, because I hate being cold and I like stretching out for long periods in the sun and getting acquainted with my friend skin cancer. And with warm weather brings an entirely new set of CDs for me. I need a fun, rockin' soundtrack for the warm days and I need a more intense, emotional repertoire for the times when it's so cold that the car doesn't warm up until you get to where you need to go.

And so, with this wonderfully refreshing dose of warmer climes, I have chosen Less Than Jake's Hello Rockview as the album of the week.

I may be a little biased. I saw them on Thursday night and it totally rocked my face off. I have only been to a few shows that made me so happy inside that I was dancing around like a complete fool the next day, but this was one of them. In addition to that, I connect with Hello Rockview indescribably. The songs are about escaping "that same old town," and finally growing up and moving on and away from the friends you once thought you'd have forever. As a sophomore in high school, I loved this album because I was really just generally sick of New Jersey and felt that this album catered to that uncomfortable disdain.

Now, as a (what I'd like to believe) more mature senior in high school preparing myself for college, this album hits home. It occured to me early this year that this is it. This is truly my last year of public education (provided I don't fail gym :P), a huge part of my insignificant eighteen year old life, and then my life will truly be in my own hands for the first time, ever. The songs on Hello Rockview perfectly articulate the feelings of frustration ("and sometimes I think/I'm the only one/ who feels like going nowhere's like giving up"), loneliness, and anxiety, but also the complacent confidence that comes with a fresh start. And throughout the album, there's a sentiment that while new things are on the horizon, it's still okay to appreciate what's familiar, including old friends and comfortable neighborhoods.

Overall, I give it this review: great, GREAT effin' album.

Album of the Week- 3/27/05

2005-03-27T22:38:00.000-04:00

Every goddamn year, my Easter is awful. Consider this: mine is a family of people in questionable mental and physical health, and around Easter time, we have all suffered through a long, tiring winter where invariably, one of us has had a trip (or two) to the hospital.

One Easter, my grandmother had just finished up Chemo.

Another year, I was fresh onto medication and so slept through most of it (come to think of it, that year wasn't so bad).

Another time, my grandfather was dying (again).

So, needless to say, my Easter Sundays are all long stretches of checking my watch, Polish food, and my family chatting extensively about each other's medication, side effects of said medication (yes, even the ones pertaining to the regularity of one's bowel movements), and how "goddamn cold!"the past winter had been.

Naturally, on my ride home today, I popped in Junior Senior's self-titled album to get most of the mental images out of my head.

The first time I heard "Move Your Feet" was on an independent radio station, and damn if it didn't get stuck in my head, but I assumed that the rest of the album wasn't my thing, because I could not handle an entire album of "Move Your Feet." And then my friend Steve showed me the video and it" soon scalated to my favorite song ever in the world.

I even downloaded the video. Yes, me. The one with dialup. It took me something like 6 hours, but I got it, and I still watch it from time to time to remind myself that there is still art left in this cruel, intolerable world.

When I found the album used in the Princeton Record Exchange, I finally decided to chance it. I hadn't wanted to drop twenty bucks on it but it was staring me in the face for 7.99 and I couldn't resist.

It has been my "pick me up" album ever since.

The themes of this album put together by the Danish pop duo are pretty consistent: sex and dancing. After all, what more is there to life? "Rhythm Bandits" is about how Junior Senior has "a beat beat beat that will beat your beat" and "Chicks and Dicks" explains insightfully that Junior, a tiny, frighteningly skinny boy, would like girls, girls, girls and Senior, a big hulk of a guy, would like boys, boys boys. "Boy Meets Girl" is the riveting tale of a one-night stand with a woman who's a mother. And "Shake Your Coconuts" is just as delightfully dirty as it sounds, which...gasp! Mixes the two album themes together! Talk about trying the conventions of art. James Joyce has nothing on these guys.

Summarily, I was wrong about this album. I can totally handle an entire album of "Move Your Feet."

This basically means that if you abhor musicians with more innuendo than variety, Junior Senior is not for you. But if you like to shake it like a Polaroid picture, it's definitely worth the money you'll spend and the discomfort you'll feel the first time you watch the scene in the "Move Your Feet" video involving the champagne bottle.

Uh...

2005-03-01T15:00:00.000-04:00

My mom just told me to shovel snow before it gets too dark out.

It's two in the afternoon.

America, you decide.

Yes, it has snowed again and it is delicious.

Come on, everybody, and move your feet!

2004-12-10T21:27:00.000-04:00

Everyone (or anyone...I'm not really sure if people read this...), do yourself a favor and read The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. Though its likeness to Orwell's 1984 is a little unnerving at times, Atwood throws in more than enough differences, flashbacks, and extra twists to make the novel absolutely fascinating. I haven't been sucked into a novel since I read Cat's Cradle, and this defintely slaked my need for something fresh, new, and... twisted. Both emotional and objective, it'll hit the spot.

Yeah. You know.

2004-10-01T17:33:00.000-04:00

Maggie J's Senior Unquote

High school is a remarkably strange concept. Take a bunch of anxious, defensive teenagers in some kind of transition to adulthood, throw them together, mix in some laughable expectation for them to behave like “grown-ups,” and then try to educate them. In theory, this bodes badly. Very badly. But if I’ve learned anything here, I’ve learned that high school isn’t here to educate us or prepare us for the rest of our lives by throwing standardized tests at us or asking us to memorize Pascal’s triangle. Rather, this fine establishment is just a motion we go through to learn how it feels to want to be somewhere else. We go here so we can appreciate the fact that there’s a whole world out there that’s more wonderful than North Brunswick. Look through those vacuum-sealed tinted windows and realize: we are more than where we are.

Rhetoric and treason

2004-09-18T23:35:00.000-04:00

As odd as this sounds, it seems like my days are divided pretty evenly between likenesses of Heaven and Hell. Some of my day is spent in a foul mood thanks to a mood swing or an argument or whatever else, and the rest is heavenly because I'm with my friends or my Matthew. This polarity is making me feel very weak in some ways, as it's hard to turn on happy or sad so fast or impulsively, so I'm stuck somewhere in the middle searching for a balance. It makes me feel like like I'm swimming in a dream: slowly, achingly slowly, with no real progress despite all my efforts. I wouldn't call it frustrating, as I foresaw this lack of progress almost immediately when I analyzed my mother's absolutely stubborn and uncompromising nature, but it's quite unsettling to turn moods on a dime so regularly. At least last year was consistently depressing and frustrating. This year seems to lack anything resembling stability. I could get used to it, I just don't want to.

For now, though, everything seems fine.

This Is A Fire Door, Never Leave Open.
the weakerthans

Headlights race towards the corner of the dining room.
Half illuminate a face before they disappear.
You breathe in forty years of failing to describe a feeling.
I breathe out smoke against the window, trace the letters in your name.

Our letters sound the same; full of all our changing that isn't change at all.
All straight lines circle sometime.

You said "Somewhere there's a box full of replacement parts
to all the tenderness we've broken or let rust away.
Somewhere sympathy is more than just a way of leaving.
Somewhere someone says 'I'm sorry.'
Someone's making plans to stay."

So tell me it's okay.
Tell me anything, or show me there's a pull, unassailable,
that will lead you there,
from the dark, alone,
benevolence that you've never known,
or you knew when you were four and can't remember.
Where a small knife tears out those sloppy seams,
and the silence knows what you silence means,
and your metaphors (as mixed as you can make them)
are linked, like days, together.

I still hear trains at night, when the wind is right.
I remember everything,
lick and thread this string that will never mend you
or tailor more than a memory of a kitchen floor,
or the fire-door that we kept propping open.
And I love this place; the enormous sky,
and the faces, hands that I'm haunted by,
so why can't I forgive these buildings,
these frameworks labeled "Home"?

A Stanford education is a good education.

2004-08-14T04:47:00.000-04:00

Well, my last post generated some controversy (the good kind) from a few people, which makes me feel good. People? Reading my journal? No way!

Anyway, as my tenure at the Stanford High School Summer College comes to a close, I feel it's appropriate to detail exactly what I've learned here. Some of these are inside jokes, others are lessons I will take to my grave. Either way, I present:

The Top 50 Things I Learned at Stanford University.

It's not breakfast... it's not lunch...it's BRUNCH!!!
Robots are bad, thrashing shark motions are good.
Isolation and solitude are almost as good as they seem, with one minor setback: you aren't near enough to the people back home that you actually like.
When a fantastic opportunity arises and you were meant to seize it, everything will work out exactly the way it was supposed to, even if it wasn't quite the way you planned (I certainly didn't expect to schedule a ska band into my living room to raise money for this thing, but hey, it was a lot more fun than selling my car)
There are all kinds of fantastic people all over the world, and only a truly first-rate program can bring them all together.
Insomniacs are either bipolar, or robots. (I mean the bad kind of insomniac, not the typical Granadian.)
Empty Nest Syndrome = Mom doesn't get mad when I flunk my math final.
People can be appallingly selfish/stupid, even at Stanford. See the "permission slip incident" for details.
There is a world outside of high school.
High school was not designed for the sole purpose of education. Rather, that purpose has been placed on the back burner in favor of teaching students basic interaction with peers.
Actually learning enlightening and interesting things almost every day of the week is a draining, yet immensely satisfying, practice.
Absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder, but it presents enough distance for one to analyze the things they hate only because of proximity.
Distance does not equal disconnection.
Curfew checks are excellent opportunities for hall bonding, unlike hall meetings, which everyone seems to go out of his or her way to avoid anyway.
Life is a lot better when friends are willing to sleep on your floor.
True friends talk to you on the phone like you're not even gone. (PS: I love you.)
A true love comes out to visit you despite the severe lack of funds to do so. (PS: I love you.)
Music is an excellent ice breaker.
Public transportation is good, public transportation that's actually reliable is even better.
After missing a train on the way to the Warped Tour, somehow, that hour just spent sitting there goes a lot more quickly when the company just happens to be amazing.
Even fetuses can get into college programs! Go figure!
Sleep is for the faint of heart.
Caffeine is good.
When learning interesting things, homework seems to suck a lot less.
Being able to maneuver through a crowd to get through them to be at the front row for the Alkaline Trio really is an admirable talent.
Bring a laptop. If all of one's time is spent in the computer cluster, people start to think strange things about them...
Being surrounded by people who are all brilliant in different ways is an eye-opening and humbling experience.
A three hour time difference is easily forgotten while on the phone with anyone really, really important.
When around lots of different kinds of people, loot their music collection.
Writing a paper is a good pre-sleep ritual.
Eight weeks gone means that instead of mailing generally healthy snacks, Mom sends her love and some Raisinets, a roll of Sweettarts, lots of cookies, and Starbursts.
Missing the dog almost feels worse than missing the parents and the friends. Almost.
Walgreen's is amazing.
Really terrible sunburn just means a lot of people will comment on how awful it looks. Thanks, I hadn't noticed.
In dorms, the night is a lot busier than during the day (unless it's finals week, and then all is dead.)
People who come to any type of college setting expecting more than a week straight of good sleep will be mocked mercilessly.
Fountain hopping at Stanford means fun. Fountain hopping in New Jersey means gonnorhea.
Godawful dining hall food is a lot more tolerable with a table full of fun people.
After awhile, "SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" on a regular basis equals a nomination for "Most Likely to Become a Dictator" for the yearbook's superlatives.
PCs definitely own the crap out of Macs.
Needing a permission slip to go anywhere out of Palo Alto has been voted unanimously to be a terrible idea.
You really need indices. Whether you have one or not.
Green Library is a lot less scary and intimidating when you're with other people.
Sex Corners are usually embedded in creepy stacks.
For nostalgia's sake, a 48 dollar sweatshirt is not too much money.
The pairing up thing that happens seems weird at first, but it gets cuter and cuter.
College is a breeding ground for caffeine addiction.
Fountains + Mr Bubble = instant fun!
Page limits are terrifying and really hard to reach, no matter how big or small they are.
Steve was right: eight weeks is enough time to make great friends and fall in love (again). <3>

This has been the best eight weeks of my life. We all earned our way here and we were all wowed by each other. Something like that has never happened to me before- where there's mutual admiration between everyone. Before I left, I knew this would be incredible, and this experience has exceeded even my wildest predictions.

Stanford has taught me that when you really need an escape, you can get it, no matter how badly you think of yourself. Before this summer I honestly thought I was a talentless, stupid schmuck with nothing going for me. Everything that occurred since a couple weekends before my departure (open mic, what what?) has proven to me that I am a) loved, b) pretty, c) intelligent, and d) limitless when placed in my idiom by some divine hand.

So, for Phoebe ("So wait, I'm your mother and the father you never had?!"), Yitka ("Granada plus Yitka"), DrewX0rz ("COKE ADDICT! COKE ADDICT!"), Bo ("Look at this. Blue. BORING. Why did he have to steal the good one?"), Mason ([taps screen] "Well, usually if you tap my screen, it opens, but this one doesn't seem-" [screen opens]), E.T. ("Jihad in your EAR!"), and everyone else- thank you, and all the best.

I have another entry in progress, so I'm not dead. Don't worry.

2004-08-13T04:40:00.000-04:00

Portia Storme: JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHAD [blows up AP Lit paper]
BldStuf: lol
BldStuf: the cia is monitoring us now
BldStuf: because u said jihad!
Portia Storme: HI JOHN ASHCROFT. WHEN YOU COME TO MY DOOR WITH YOUR AGENTS, LET'S HUG.
BldStuf: lolol

What is intellect, anyway?

2004-07-29T21:55:00.000-04:00

Assassins blather...

2004-07-28T16:16:00.000-04:00

Apparently, I'm one of nine people left alive in Granada. Awesome. But, I killed my target yesterday and apparently it didn't count.

Here are some highlights from last night's total melee with Phoebe, Mason, Erik and Andrew...

(This one is the funniest.)

All: [Walk through Naranja looking for Phoebe's target, Ian. We wind up talking to a girl across the hall from him.]
Ian: [Walks towards us, looking mildly interested.]
Me: [elbows Phoebe and points to him whilst he unlocks his door.]
Phoebe: Hey, are you Ian?
Ian: [Turns around] Yeah...
Phoebe: [Steps forward and starts to shoot frantically...BUT HER WATERGUN DOESN'T SPRAY.]
Us: [collapse in laughter.]
Ian: [to a girl down the hall] Um, I think I just witnessed the most pathetic thing I've ever seen...

Eventually, Phoebe used the sympathy card until he let her kill him. It was cute. And very, very funny...

Setting: Adelfa dorm
Mason and I are plotting a way to coerce my target out of his room. We finally decide on a scare tactic, so Mason walks past his room, then trips and falls into the wall. He starts moaning.

Mason: [whining, moaning in "pain"] Ow, my knee!
Andrew: [runs over] Holy shit, that's swollen!
Me: [Looking over to my target's room] Does it burn when you pee?!
Phoebe: [stares at me incredulously]
Erik: [walks by and says totally unconvincingly] Oh no! Oh no... he's really hurt...we need a cell phone... [louder, because my target still isn't coming out] WE NEED A CELL PHONE. [Finally just walks into target's room] DO YOU HAVE A CELL PHONE?!
Eric (my target): [walks out of his room curiously.]
Me: [sprays him] OWNED.
Eric: Uh... I'm already dead.
All: Fuck.

Which commenced in mass confusion. Apparently, there's another Brian McBride, and another Maggie. The other Maggie got my target, and Brian McBride and I got the same one, so of course, my kill is the one that doesn't count. Wonderful. But, all is fixed now and I'm getting ready to go super uber ninja on these people...

After this, we tried to convince Phoebe to make up for her earlier blunder by sniping her next target through a window while she was in a tutoring session, but to no avail.

Everyone seems to be really pissed that the Granadians are all looking out for each other, walking each other to class and such. Except me. Because no one would walk me to class today. Fuckers. :P

This game rules.

Y'all know how we do...

2004-07-27T00:38:00.000-04:00

Here is the link to a Snapfish photo album that pretty much sums up what we do here at Stanford in the summer, in case anyone was wondering. A dormie of ours, Daniel, took them. The link brings you to a sign-in page, so sign up and view.

One photo is of Daniel's knee after he fell off of a bike. It's pretty ugly. Just a warning.

Take off your makeup- the party's over.

2004-07-26T16:49:00.000-04:00

This is so professional, I feel like I should don a suit and tie to put an entry in my spankin' new blogger.

I bet it's kind of hard to find a lot of stupid, angsty 14-year-old retards running around on here, because you have the options to save your entries and draft 'em and stuff, which means you actually have to think about what you say. I have a feeling that thinking about what you type results in something more insightful than "today my father drank a lot and my mom threw the iron at the cat. I am despondant. I cry, because Conor Oberst told me to." I wish Livejournal had a "STOP, YOUR ENTRY IS STUPID!" error, because a) it would have prevented a few stupid mistakes on my own and b) it would cut the population of LJ about 75%. Which would be sweet.

Anyway, I need a shower. Um, badly. See ya soon, mother truckers.