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These pictures of my recent paintings came out a little fuzzy, I'm not sure why. The image quality is pretty bad, but I like the paintings.
SAT in Blue.
Notre Dame and Pickle Wearing Sombrero.
Forgetful
Ryan Robert Rinkel. Not for sale.
I've got a rough cold, and acute laryngitis (so says the doctor). Trying to stay better for rehearsal, the SAT, the art show, the picnic for my dad's office, choir, and a surprise romantic getaway..all part of this lovely weekend.
In other Internet travels, I have discovered almost three dozen pictures of squirrels that a student at Princton continues to take. Sort of sketchy.
Finally, I extend heartfelt thanks to everyone who voted for me. I won the election--most likely it was very close--and as a result finally put a lot of instances in my past. I'm feeling refreshed, and like my old self again. You people work miracles.
Coming out of my cage
And I've been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
...
Jealousy
Turning saints into the sea
Turning through sick lullaby
Joking on your alibi
But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
I'm Mr. Brightside
--Mr.Brightside by The Killers
This single is being re-released May 24 in the UK. You know you want it. Brit-indie rock...like the Strokes mishmashed with 80's rock. Yet catchier, with a hint of pop.
Real Player High or Low.
A Confession (Or, A Dear Note to my Readers)
This entire phase of prolonged stress and awful fear is almost over. I feel as if I've been standing at a crossroads for the last year and finally, I've come out of it. Since last May I've been stuck with this awful feeling of guilt and pain and remorse. It tears me up inside, and I have grown to hate it. The feelings are like electric shocks that make me shake because I simply cannot seem to make them disappear. Some days, I wonder why I continue to go to this school, it would be so easy to leave. I have plenty of friends elsewhere...I could escape and never be bothered by this trepidation and incessant feelings of pain.
Then I remember that I have a duty of sorts. I'm class president. And somehow, though it may sound horribly cliche, that kept me going throughout the year. I would focus on planning Winter Formal, setting up Open Mic Night, doing anything that would distract me from what I had come to fear most. My position was my one point of stability throughout the year, and I relished it.
Yet irony has resulted in what have been perhaps the most emotionally unstable last few weeks I have gone through. At one point, I almost burst into tears in fourth period. I've spent hours writing and rewriting my speech, even though you probably won't even notice tomorrow. I tried to do everything I could to ensure at least some votes. Because the one thing that I really need is being jeopardized by the one thing I can't seem to forget. It's a clash of the titans of sorts. A final curtain call after the stage has supposedly been swept clear of emotions. My fate--and quite possibly my sanity--lies in the hands of 103 individuals.
I've considered dropping out, but know that that would truly make me go insane. And I feel as if I'm trapped in a bad movie. That I have to cast my die in this game. That I'm addictively curious to what happens. So maybe it will all work out in the end.
I don't want this to sound like a plea to vote for me. Nor do I wish to invoke any sort of pity. I just wish that if there was something more I could do...some sort of reassurance that I could feel. That everything could magically become better. And I thought that perhaps blogging could make me feel happier, that getting out all of this frustration could be a very good thing indeed.
One more year is all I ask.
Maybe it will all be alright.
I'm so afraid.
Jason Mraz definitely has the best music video I've seen in a long time. The song is catchy and one of my old favorites. The video tells a story in bright techicolor hues. And most importantly, everyone's dancing--even the police. Definitely the way life should be. Watch it
here
I attended both the Raleigh Charter and Ravenscroft proms this weekend; what surprised me the greatest was that both proms had the same theme. True, Raleigh Charter alluded to the spirit of a speakeasy called "Manhatten 24", while Ravenscroft preferred to entitle their prom "All That Jazz", with nods to swinging metropolitan cityscapes and big band music. Yet both proms used their to commemorate the 1920's, "flapper" period of American history.
It was certainly intriguing to note how both proms interpreted the theme in different ways. Crude estimates note that Ravenscroft spent almost fifteen thousand dollars more on their prom, but I suspect a majority of that money was allocated to the provided three course dinner (salad, chicken with herbed potatoes and squash, banana crepes), location (the Mitchell's Catering headquarters) and live swing band. Ravenscroft also took great advantage of white holiday lights, and bespeckled the walls in cityscape forms, and well as the ceiling, to create the illusion of a night sky. Other props included mannequins dressed in flapper and zoot suit attire, a vast utopia of fruit and cheese platters (that looked almost too good to eat), and aboundments of artistically arranged flowers.
Raleigh Charter took great advantage of burgundy tulle fabric, tying it meticulously to each small champagne glass, and spiraling it around the columns within the Wake Country Shrine Club, along with (what else?) white holiday lights. Lights also hid behind smooth wooden and rice paper screens. The food was mostly hor d'oeuvre fare, with small sandwiches, teryaki chicken, and petit fours. A DJ was used, who played some odd sort of elevator music for the first hour, and then switched over to the traditional dance melodies of Top 40 tunes. Duly noted is the fact that both schools used silent film projections against one wall of the table area, showing Charlie Chaplin movies. The coincidence was rather unnerving...and I received a sharp hit of deja vu.
Personally, I enjoyed the Ravenscroft better than that of Raleigh Charter, but thought that one could not entirely compare the proms. Plus, the fact that I went to the Ravenscroft prom with Warren greatly increased my sense of fun...although it was exciting dancing with John and others at Raleigh Charter (thanks to John).
At the moment, I am exhausted and have to prepare for GoPo and Latin tests tomorrow. Yet I can't seem to shake off the memories of yesterday evening.
Oh, Warren...
I just returned from the Riverrun Film Festival in Winston-Salem after seeing my boyfriend's movie premiere. Good stuff. I missed school to sleep in a car, spend time with Warren and professional male dancers, and watch a movie. I will post more later, but have to go get ready for prom.
I earnestly appreciate all of the dedication of those who stepped in for me today when I was unable to campaign. This event came up a full month in advance and there was, as always, no way to change it. All of you, whether you passed out rainbow-colored stickers, wore a piece of propoganda (even if it was stuck onto your crotch), and continued to support me are duly noted. Special thanks to you.
Dude. No one ever told me that Josh Groban was attractive.
The theories that have been often misinterpreted
As dimensions outfoxing than our own
Often are merely the scissors lying on the cutting room floor
Of baby showers, weddings, and debutante balls.
What has become interlocked as a commodity
Flows against the current of events and misfortunes
Leaking concrete over the coughs and tremors.
Technology is merely a blank screen created to distract us from the periphery.
Set to release Tuesday for only the low low price of $4.50:
The cover art is of the French Alps, Chamonix, France. Part of Mont Blanc, the tallest mountain in Europe, can been seen in the upper left corner. Also, in the lower left corner, you can see a faint white line which is a glacier. The second row of mountains on the right is part of Italy. Just thought it was cool.
I miss France.
The emotional difficutly involved in sustaining one's existence is often too much to bear. The new onslaught of what I tried so desperately to block out seems as though it will never truly be over. My problems are like a dark figure one views, leaning on the lamppost outside one's bedroom window, illuminated by halogen and the reflection from the asphalt, passive but potentially dangerous. The unsettled feelings will never leave the depths of my mind. They constantly remain quiet until another event merits their rebirth.
As each month progresses I desperately continue to convince myself what I have known since childhood--that prolonged separation anxiety is pointless. More importantly, no one wants to discuss it. Though past occurances may come up in conversation, each comment shoots of the back of the spinal cord, into my cheeks and tingles my fingers, until my joints are curved into small fists fighting what is no longer real.
The rendering of persons in a new light has stripped me bare of stipulations and dreams. Currently expected to retain positions on my personal field has often been the root of previous insecurities. I don't like it at all, but nevertheless maintain an unrelenting display of hardiness and decorum. The unhealthiness of it all screams for justice, for the confession of words to once and for all change the rumors and distractions cluttered in the workspace of infinity. Yet any further mention of previous situations would certainly garner a greater masquerade.
And here I am, my eyes glazing and tearing at the spontaneous jumbles of translucent words spilling out of my eye sockets like small marbles. A wise man once said that the greatest way to conquer a fear is to face it head-on, in a gladiator-esque battle of epic proportions. Yet I'm not sure what to be afraid of--I lost it a long time ago.
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and
We'd never compromise
Late this afternoon, several individuals walked up to me and asked what tips I had for running in a high school Student Government election. Thus, they are published here.
--Earlier is always better. Spread the word that you're running as soon as humanely possible. Hint at it months in advance, even.
--Show enthusiasm! People want someone who is genuinely excited about making a difference.
--Reach outside of your comfort zone, and hold conversations with individuals in your class that you've never really talked to before. You'll probably make a great deal of friends.
--Keep in mind that if you're running for a class office this year, the only thing you'll be doing is 1) selling Jersey Mike's subs, and 2) planning prom. If you're not totally psyched about this, consider running for a representative position. It's a great way to get involved in student government, and meet students from other grades, too. Also, only representatives can run for student body officers.
--Advertise, advertise, advertise! This shows that a person is committed to running, and also gets their name out. Good places to put posters are on doors, in stairwells, in corners, and outside bathrooms.
--Get your friends involved! This broadens the scope of your campaign, and makes it fun for them, too.
--Candy doesn't always work. Food fades in peoples' memories about as quickly as it goes through their digestive tracts. Plus, people aren't going to vote for you JUST because you handed out goodies--in fact, you might actually repel students who view your handouts as a cheap way to get votes.
--Truth be told, running is simply about knowing the most people. It's not really a traditional popularity contest; the vote of the quiet kid in your English class counts just as much as the vote of the kid with the Gucci sunglasses.
--Don't stress out too much about your speech. High schoolers are going to get tired hearing one "You should vote for me because..." speech after the other. Keep it fresh. I will personally support anyone who decides to sing or dance as a portion of their speech.
--Have fun with elections...but not too much fun. Remember that if you get elected, you're responsible for your class. In particular, this means hours of work each week--including the time spent preparing for and selling Jersey Mike's subs on Wednesdays. Keep in mind that Student Government is a large committment, and people will always vote for someone they know will take their position seriously.
That's about it. Now go forth, grasshopper, and have the time of your lives.
One more thing.
Vote Bethany for Junior Class President!
Sometimes my family is like an old portrait. I'm the only one smiling.
Ever so often, individuals publish personal material in their blogs that increases my understanding of their lives. How often does someone find themself reading entries about situations that have never been mentioned before? These entries, typed for an undisclosed anonymity, are like the wings of the leather jacket that I may sometimes fail to recognize.
People are so critical; the concept of self esteem can easily be thought of as a common misconception. Have we not the same amount of confidence, but distributed into different categories? Someone who may feel poorly about their social skills could easily store pride in their academic or extracurricular work. The appearance of oneself also fluxuates at abstract intervals so that it can be impossible to find an accurate indicator of self-assurance. For example, anyone who receives criticism for an artwork may be commended at another portion of time. The changes that we face daily determine nothing except positive or negative feelings centering around a certain event.
The trick is to not sweat the small stuff. Overanalyzation and dwelling on problems has often been the fall of many great men. The changes that one undergoes are sporadic fallacies which really mean nothing in the grand scheme of life. Take time to think things through, yes, but do not let anything affect you wholly. There is more to life than low confidence and mistakes. The key is learning where to continue, and possibly improve, your daily routine.
So Animus practiced today, and I thought I'd post a few pictures from out latest session of recording. The EP is due out on Thursday, for the low low price of four American dollars.
The band:
Joe Wright, guitar extraordinaire. Responsible for most of the equipment and melodies for the songs, and co-wrote the lyrics with me.
Jarrett Ross, drummer prodigy. He's only been playing for a year and already has a direct 70's-80's grunge influence.
Thomas Chase, the bass kid. He provides the much needed bass lines, crafty fingering skills, and a passion for working out on the exercise bike.
Me, Bethany, singing and writing my way into your hearts since 1987. I also recorded the tracks, with my sexy computer talents.
Our hefty recording studio (excluding the drum set, which didn't fit in the photo). Notice the Mickey Mouse record player, whose musical talents are featured on the first track of the EP.
We practiced through the morning, and recorded after a short break.
Our music includes:
--An introduction
--003
--I'd Do It
--Bass Arpeggio
--When the Kids Cry
--The HTML Song (I'm Fine)
Also, in order to appear truly "punk", Jarrett practiced jumping while holding a guitar. It worked.
After a six hour session, you would fall asleep, too.
We're not quite sure what was going on in this picture. Maybe Jarrett's attempting to revive me. Anyone who submits a cheeky caption idea may win a special prize from Animus.
Two movies that you should see:
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Because it's a highly emotional head trip that leaves you breathless, and questioning all sorts of possibilities regarding human nature and the mysteries of science. And because it stars such lovely actors as Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst, Mark Ruffalo, and Elijah Wood--who has a priceless laugh. And because you will never be the same after you see it.
The Last Summer. Because no one's heard of it, and it's directed by the Oscar winning Producer of Titanic, Jon Landau. And because Warren's in it. And because I'm attending the movie premiere....then will go home and blog all about it. And because it includes munchkins that live in a field and roast cats.
...Yet what is oddly striking about these two films is that the main character is named Joel.
Finally, someone has created Queer Eye for the Straight Girl! The AP describes the show as, "Set to debut next year, the distaff spin-off of Bravo's smash series will be set in Los Angeles, where a team of gay stylists will be dispatched to help their female charges look, feel and live better."
I still wouldn't mind seeing Straight Plan for the Queer Man. That would be entertaining, in its own little way.
And those shoes? Bought them today. Score.
People are too obsessed with cars. Seriously, no one can take three steps without being inundated by automobile propoganda. Retailers are pulling out all the stops for convincing the general public to buy vehicles--I tried to pick up a National Geographic, and there lies an advertisement for a Toyota Sequoia on the back cover. Countless songs have been written about the pleasure involved in driving--how it calms your mind, ensnares your senses, even attracts beautiful people. Of course, cars are also the prime element of transportion among the American people, so that one cannot possibly travel any distance without partaking in some sort of motor transport. Even at a good hiking trail, tucked away from the quiet beauties of civilization, one can still faintly hear the soft sound of automobiles racing across the highway.
Cars are an opiate for the masses. They calm us down, and coincidingly make us feel powerful. It's the cheapest of highs, the most destructive of pleasures. It kills over forty thousand individuals a year. Quite a drug.
So I failed my driving test with flying colors, and also received a point on my (imaginary) license for accidentally stopping twenty-four inches in front of a stop sign. In addition, the minivan was so big that I ended up completing a four point turn. Both instances have never ever occured in previous driving experiences; my parents even tease me about the irony of the situation. Such is life. Here I am, creating all sorts of aspirations about travel and spring break when I can't even pass a silly driving test.
So in the Hearts game of life, I've just been handed the Queen of Spades. Rearranging plans has never been a strong suit of mine. So although there's a chip on my shoulder, I've got some cards up my sleeve for how to make the most of the following five days.
Why is the weather so chilly?
Winter definitely needs to be shafted from the system.
How am I supposed to enjoy driving around in the sunshine when it's too cold to roll down the windows?
North Carolina's Youth Legislative Assembly (YLA) was this weekend, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. My committee's bill was passed, and thus, we created harsher penalties for second degree date rape offenders. It occured at the Sheraton downtown--with excellent fluffy beds and even better food. Everyone was excited--a bit too excited at some points, as the Speakers and chaperones constantly had to reprimand us for being too boisterous. Nevertheless, I met some beautiful people (both inside and outside) and, as you can tell by the complexity of this post, I am thoroughly exhausted. Ah, but there is something about coming home and missing everyone; finally being alone.
This weekend, I'll be attending a legislative conference, along with hundreds of other psycho schoolchildren determined to waste away their spring breaks doing academic activities. I can't wait.
We're not in the hizzouse...but we will be.