your runaway smile in my piggybank, baby.

Pop punk songs are way too catchy, point blank. Listening to Boys Like Girls makes me feel like a 12-year-old again. It's probably not a good thing when I'm able to predict the rhymes of a song I've never heard. But, nonetheless, I'm rotating this utterly predictable, cookie-cutter band like no other right now. I should probably update you on my long search on a decent hip-hop song. I'm into "Fire" by 50 Cent featuring Nicole Scherzinger and Young Buck right now...most likely going to be played at the next dance party, which better be next month or I'll be incredibly pissed. The new Flo-rida song, "Radio," is decent but definitely not as infectious as "Low." The lyrics are just as horrible though-"Come on play my radio, listen to my radio, turn it up it gets to low, bitch I'm from the ghetto." Jesus...can't anyone be creative?! At least Justin Timberlake's lyrics are decent...somewhat.
On another note, I'm finally getting my camera! This Olympus XA that I've been craving for since last year is finally coming to me. However, apparently the description for the camera said "it was in good condition 12 years ago." Probably not too good of a sign...oh well. I'm just hoping for the best; plus, the camera comes with the A11 flash and a nice case. I'm not sure how much I'll be into using it, or if I'll even have the time to. But at the very least, I'll save it for this summer. Which reminds me...this year is coming all too soon. I honestly feel like the end of summer 2007 was yesterday, and already first semester is coming to an end in a week or two. And soon enough, summer will be here, meaning we enter our senior year and say goodbye to everyone else...
I'm dreading it and looking forward to it all at once.

rock and roll baby, don't you know we're all alone now?

So apparently some people have occasionally been reading this thing! That surprises me, but I really don't mind. You'd figure, if you were relaying all your thoughts on a public website, that you'd expect it to be read. Someone did refer to this as my music blog, though, which it is not...well, at least not specifically. I do talk about music a lot, since it's such a big part of my life.

Speaking of music, I might as well talk about it. I've been trying to find new, good hip-hop/dance songs because as amazing as "Low" is, it's getting sort of old. I enjoy "What Is It" with Baby Bash featuring Sean Kingston quite a bit, but besides that there isn't too much good stuff out there...even "Who The Fuck Is That," which should be amazing considering it's another T-Pain/Akon combo, was highly disappointing. However, I really like "Love Like This" with Natasha Bedingfield and Sean Kingston, and "Baby Love" by Nicole Scherzinger. I have a certain infatuation with that Pussycat Dolls lead. Speaking of, I should really find out if her CD's any good.

Speaking of girl singers, I've been quite jealous of Hayley Williams' hair (that's Paramore, for you). I remember her "Misery Business" phase when it was about 10 different shades of colors, starting with yellow...then dark yellow...then orange...then dark orange...then bright, fire red. It was absolutely hideous. And then later she just dyed the whole thing yellow, which was also pretty gross. But now it's a nice shade of copper red, and it was perfectly waved..at least it was when they performed at Tila Tequila's NYE Masquerade thing. I realize I just spent an entire paragraph rambling about someone's hair. I guess, since mine's pretty hideous at the moment, it's on my mind. Girls never like their own hair. They always like someone else's. That goes for most things with girls, anyway.

So for the past hour I've been trying to add 100 words to an article that was already too long in the first place. Now that I'm done, peace out till next time (probably sometime in February). Wish me luck on the SAT and finals!

you sound eclectic.

So I was making a (failed) attempt to work on my ISP when 7:00 came along and Sounds Eclectic beckoned me. I loaded the KCRW Live Radio window, when what do I see? Zooey Deschanel was scheduled to be on Open Road! I got really excited, thinking maybe she was going to release that debut album once and for all and she was doing some promos behind it. But nope, the reason was even better. I am sort of pissed I didn’t know about Concrete Frequency: Songs of the City earlier. It sounds absolutely stellar-there are tons of acts singing about the city life, including Stevie Jackson of Belle and Sebastian, Sondre Lerche, Bob Mould, Sean Lennon, Zach Rogue of Rogue Wave, and of course, Zooey Deschanel. Even though tickets are still on sale, I know I can’t go considering it’s two days from now, on a school night. But, wow. Just imagining watching amazing artists at the Walt Disney Concert Hall makes me excited.

Listening to Sounds Eclectic makes me relieved. First of all, I know way more artists than I had when I discovered the little darling (and Morning Becomes Eclectic) back in July. But so far, they’ve played Emily Haines, M.I.A., A Fine Frenzy, The Magic Numbers...all on my iPod! Ha! And it’s also a nice feeling, hearing decent artists on the radio instead of the five songs they rotate on KIIS. Really, it’s just five songs. “Hate That I Love You”, “Shawty Is A Ten”, “Low”, “Kiss Kiss”, and some other one that I know I’m forgetting.

Anyway. Doing my ISP makes me realize how corrupt the media has become. Bias I don’t mind as much, because we just have to get smart about that, but corporate control of the media is really starting to make me sad. The fact that only five major corporations (Viacom, Time Warner, NewsCorp, Disney, and GE) control most of the United States press is terrifying. And that major advertisers can change the news I read, and change the content that I’m about to see. I give a shit (and you should too), because media affects us a whole lot. It can start a trend just by calling it a trend; it can make us actually care about Paris Hilton going to jail; it can persuade us to go from Hilary to Obama just by giving the “right” facts. (On a side note: Go Obama at the Iowa caucus!)

So I’ve been thinking even more about the college front. It doesn’t help that 2008 feels like a ticking clock, counting down the days until I actually have to start applying. I’m seriously considering a major in English if I have to major in something writing-related (but really, who knows? I might fall in love with philosophy or something totally irrelevant). There are problems though, namely-what kind of idiot wants to be an English major when she got a B in English last year? I can’t picture months and months of reading all these classics and analyzing them. I can’t picture myself being an English major, period. That’s probably really wrong-if I want to be a writer, shouldn’t I absolutely adore English and be ecstatic at receiving another essay assignment? But, high school and college English is probably way different. Also, if I love journalism I can just find a college with a strong newspaper, or magazine, or anywhere where I can get hands-on experience. Okay, so I admit I haven’t exactly resolved anything since the last entry, but give me a break-I still have time, probably until 2010 or 2011.

I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a good writer, and if I’m meant to be one. I don’t exactly know if I’ve always wanted to pursue writing, but I have been writing my entire life. A couple of weeks ago I stumbled upon diary entries from when I was 5 or 6. Something about me eating pistachios and playing school with my mom and dad, accompanied by stick figures of us playing school, me with a big peanut in my hand (apparently, I couldn’t differentiate pistachios and peanuts back then). I’ve filled up (and wasted) countless spiral notebooks, proposing to write novels about a girl reuniting with her dog or the life of a rock band or something equally preposterous (and probably really shitty, considering I didn’t know about dogs or rock bands back then). In fifth grade, Devon and I were thinking and decided to start a literary magazine called Blue Planet News (our teacher Ms. Simon was all for it). I’m totally rambling now, but I clearly remember defining maudlin for a “word of the month” segment-no wonder I have no trouble memorizing that word for the SAT. After elementary school, I continued to write (of course), continuing to fill up spiral notebooks with free verse poetry or more unfinished novels. And now, my preferred form of writing is more essays or rants than teen romances or visceral poetry, but I’m writing nonetheless. But just because I’ve been writing all my life doesn’t make me destined to be a writer. I remember asking Mr. Kim, our big philosopher vocab teacher at Elite (SAT prep class), how you know if you should pursue a career. He went on a fascinating spiel about how it isn’t if you are destined for your career or not, but it was more like you should believe in being able to do that career (more specifically, be a writer) and then you can pursue it and will be successful at it. My next big reference was, surely, Google (“how to know if you’re a writer” search query), which told me that reactions to your work or that “gut feeling” was the telltale sign. Well, then, I guess the conclusion to my search is that I’m sometimes a good writer. Sometimes I get that feeling that what I’m penning is amazing, although I repress it to try to be more modest. When I show my work to others (excluding lit analysis essays and other such school assignments, because I don’t feel good about those, ever), they usually react really well to it (or don’t criticize it).

So there we go. I was going to spend another paragraph about how I never participate in class even though I really should, but I’ll let that slide.

so this is the new year, and i don't feel any different.

The new year is surprising anticlimactic. Even when I’m counting down…5, 4, 3, 2, 1: Happy New Year! I obviously don’t feel any different. There’s no inside or outwardly change. And I’m in just the same position I was in a few seconds ago, when I was living in 2007. But now, the seven morphs into an eight and I must deal with endless minutes of frustration every time I write the date as 1/6/07 or something of that sort. But other than that, what’s to say something will be different? Yet I continue to write New Year’s Resolutions. This year I have more than twenty to fulfill, which seems like absolutely horrendous, except for the fact that they all seem to follow under the categories of a) be nicer and more respectful b) be more confident and open c) be more productive and less lazy. Yes, somehow I managed to write that in 20+ different sentences.

I’m listening to Coconut Records’ Nighttiming. First off, why would anyone name his or her band, or solo act, _____ Records?! Did Jason Schwartzman want to giggle at all those people who would inevitably be really confused? Would he ever name a record label Coconut Band?! Fuck, dude. Anyway, this album is quite beautiful. Kristen Dunst was on the last song that I don’t remember the name to, and Zooey Deschanel’s on “Mama”. Dear, I love Zooey’s voice especially on “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” Might I mention, Leon Redbone has the deepest voice that I have ever heard. You know, I feel 2008 is going to be a really good music year. I hadn’t really anticipated anything in 2007, and anything I did anticipate really blew (except Envy On The Coast and Paramore). I’m not anticipating anything in 2008 either (except Bat For Lashes, Gym Class Heroes, and something else I know I’m forgetting), but I’ve got my Hype Machine and Death + Taxes to fill me in with new artists I’ve never heard. On yet another tangent, I’m really excited to do What’s On My iPod? soon (hopefully, it’ll happen). I’m thinking The Brunettes, Bat For Lashes (obviously), Brand New (maybe), T-Pain (just to round it all out), and...well, I’ll have to think about the last album. But still, I’m really pumped for some reason.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and really considering if I want to be going to Northwestern, using $40,000+ of my parents’ money on a journalism degree that probably would bring me no further than a English, or whatever it is, degree from Berkeley for just $15,000 (or however much it is nowadays). And I’m thinking if I want to pursue journalism in the first place. Journalism is absolutely fascinating: the pursuit of truth, the presentation of news to the masses with no bias (is that even possible?), and so on. But is it really for me? I detest interviewing, and I don’t get as much satisfaction in finishing an article as I do when I finish writing a narrative essay or a column-type of thing. I want to do journalism because I want my own column, and because I love editorial (which, I learned, is really difficult). But I really do not need a degree in journalism, nor do I need to spend four years learning about the ethics of journalism, etc. to write a column. And if I was looking at it from a pragmatic point of view, writing just a column is not going to get me any money whatsoever. I would love to be in an editor post, but there is that caveat of having to be a journalist before, which brings me back to square one. What’s more, those editors-in-chief of most magazines most likely did not have journalism degrees. But, the bigger problem is, if I don’t major in journalism, what do I major in? And as much as I want to try Chicago, the Bay Area doesn’t sound that bad either (and obviously, neither does New York or any major East Coast city). I remember saying that I wanted to go to a college where no one else from CHS was going. If I was to go to Berkeley that plan would totally go to shit, but just because a couple of friends are also going with me doesn’t mean I won’t branch out and make new friends. But I don’t really prefer Berkeley, as I might have to come down every single holiday...or my parents could make a surprise visit. Oh dear. Anyway, maybe it’s too soon to be thinking so much about this, and spending a really long paragraph rambling about it. After all, I do have...little less than a year to ponder about it. Wait...this is hurtling toward me too fast. Fuck. Well, all I know for sure is that I want a career that somehow involves writing, and I don’t mean writing bank statements or anything remotely resembling that.