abigailnicole: (not envy)

I keep hearing Rhapsody in Blue. This is at least the fourth time in the past week that I've heard it: randomly, on TV, on a movie, just out. I wonder if god is trying to tell me something via George Gershwin?

Moving the 21st, how terrifying. The only thing I have packed is all my Tshirts and a few pants. That's only four days left in which to pack my things, round up all the stuff I loaned out (unlikely), and say goodbye to everyone I know. I think I'll skip the last one: I hate goodbyes. I do my best to avoid them altogether. They're tearful and uncomfortable.

I also came home from my journey to Hannah-Amanda-Emma-Nora-John Max (during which we watched Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and I got a $5 purple trench coat) and was sick (though whether this sickness is disease or just strange food I have yet to tell). Between that and my three almost-wrecks on the way home (two of which Amanda was there for), I think I'll stay home tonight (and practice my parenthetical phrases).
abigailnicole: (Default)
So my favorite people to work with are Stephen and Brittany. Stephen is a hypochondriac, self-described expert on everything who I love dearly and who never ceases to amuse me. Brittany is short (all the rest of the hostesses are a good foot shorter than me), bleach-blonde hair, and shares my love of Spongebob and Brand New. SHE IS NEVER SAD. I worked with both these people tonight. Friday I close with Brittany and tonight I drove Stephen and this new guy Chris home, which was an adventure because Stephen goes: "Town is this way" and it was THE OTHER WAY and we drove all the way out PAST Melissa's house and it was crazy and he got us lost and it was fun.

So I got home and decided to cut up watermelon. At ten pm. What I had for dinner was chicken soup from work and watermelon. nom nom nom. And then I was like...giant dance party! so here's my weird one-person late-night party music. It's very short, it consists of two songs:

1. Middle of Nowhere - Hot Hot Heat
2. Knock Em Out - Lily Allen


I don't know. I say that a lot these days. I don't know. It's true, whatever it is. I am tired of apologizing because I don't know what to say! My new years resolution is to quit doing that. I will say snarky things instead. and write something. hahahahahahaha oh writing, that's funny

a haiku:

i was a small bear
you caught me in a steel trap
and took all my fur.

I'M KNITTING  A SWEATER OMG. And the whole reason I'm making it is because the pattern is called Mrs. Darcy OMG THE CUTE. THIS SWEATER REEKS CUTE and half of it is the name.

I'm listening to the Across the Universe soundtrack and IT MAKES ME HAPPY. It also reminds me that the music was much better than other elements of the film, like, for example, the plot. but it was pretty and sad.

I read franny and zooey and I quite liked it. it was pretty and sad.

these people, these people, they are me:

I have never known the likes of this. I've been alone and I have missed things and kept out of sight...but other girls were never quite like this.

maybe I am missing out on the fun things. I don't think so. I watch Spongebob a lot, it's on Nickelodeon for hours and hours every day in the summer and I just leave it on and knit, or leave it on and internet, or leave it on and walk around. Sometimes I watch it. That's gotta count for something fun. Sometimes I go shopping or spend money or eat (not very often, now, since it's summer), or sleep without moving all night long, like I did last night. It was wonderful. Between all these terrible dreams I have, then I go and have nights like last night, where I didn't move a single bit and it was cold and warm and wonderful. Maybe it's the TIP thing again, where when it's hot I'm destined to go crawl in the bathroom in boxers and a tank top, sitting in the window with my legs sticking out on the roof, not sleeping all the time.

Meeting all these people has made me realize how uncool I am. I am pretty uncool; you know this. I'm a Trekkie and I knit and I don't drink or smoke or do drugs or anything. I cannot paint like Hannah nor know every movie ever made like Amanda; I do not have an immense knowledge of musicals or can sing them all like Jodi; I do not know and have never seen Talladega Nights like Brittany, nor can I speak in accents and recite Hamlet like Elizabeth. I cannot play the guitar, which everyone can do, nor can I play any sort of sports. But I read a lot of books, and I'm relatively fast on the up-take. Let's get our good qualities straight, here. let's make sure we have some.

crazy landmine girl. I could be crazy landmine girl if you happened to have a black hat somewhere around.
abigailnicole: (Default)
This is why the Galt House is my favorite hotel; every time I come here I have a good experience. Beta Club, STLP even, academic team (or lack thereof, in my case..) Last night I went to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat performed by St. X, an all-boys catholic school that my friend Michael Winn! goes to. (and adam orr, but he wasn't in the play.) I sat next to Jodi and Taylor (gspeeps) and Emily (tori amos fan <3) and afterwards we went to TGIfridays and back to the galt house to talk. now, I love these people. they are amazing. they ooze vivacity from every orifice.

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat was a different matter. I'd never seen it but St. X did a great job--they have really good singers there (even if they don't have a good choreographer). But for someone who's grown up in church and heard the story of Joseph a hundred thousand times, this play was really ironic in an inside-knowledge kind of way born from hundreds of sermons about Joseph. It's hard to explain just why it was so ironic unless you're me. Part of it is the difference. Joseph's story is so dark, so depressing, you know? Attempted murder by his brothers, sold into slavery by his brothers, worked as a slave, rose to power yay! oop, seduced by your master's wife, she calls rape on you and you go to jail for a long time. then you get to see pharoh and become his right-hand man. all this told in an hour of song and dance is much more amusing than it has a right to be. it kind of detracts from the gravity of the story, if a musical can detract from anything? I don't know how to describe it, except that I found it extremely ironic.
abigailnicole: (Default)
the party
I would live in a house with these people for the rest of my life and be 100% happy.

The First Official Reunion of The Party from GSP was last night and I LOVE THESE PEOPLE MORE THAN ICE CREAM AND CAKE AND BAGELS PUT TOGETHER. You don't realize how much you miss people until you see them again, and everyone's in a room singing and laughing and making smores and playing guitars and pianos and ukuleles and guitar hero and Apples to Apples. just hanging out. even if it's not the Mignon Patio it's just as good as ever.

except for those missing. Let us hold a word of silence for our missing comrades: Hannah Kagan-Moore, you were with us in spirit, spooning in Jodi's chair. Liam Welch, your Apples to Apples prowess was duly remembered and missed.

Some friends you lose touch with. They move away, get a new job, a new boyfriend, and when you meet them in Wendy's or the mall you stare at each other and make small talk and the entire time the weight of that old friendship is hanging over your head. When you leave you feel sad, out of touch and out of place. These people aren't that. These are people you run into at the mall and immediately ditch whoever you're with (or take them along, if they're cool enough) and you go to the shoe store and try on the highest pair of heels there with Hannah, or take up a post just before the food court and form an impromptu barbershop quartet with Michael and Jodi and Meredith and Taylor. You don't lose touch or give up on these people.
abigailnicole: (not envy)
The past few days I've gotten the urge to write again something fierce. Just to put something down with words about how things are. Fake people with real feelings. It's like getting some free time made me sit back and realize all the things that have been going on and now I need to write about it. I'm glad I'm doing [personal profile] embodiment next year because it'll be GOOD! Writing every day is so motivating. GSA--that was the best part of GSA, writing so much. I filled up an entire Mead one-subject notebook in three weeks, do you know how crazy-great that was? and even though at the time it was painful, it was beautiful and alive and perfect. I'm getting together with Monica Sat. (maybe) to go to selet poivre and write HURRAY. no kidding love forever.

Good thing: This past week I've typed up most of the written part of the Trashy Romance Novel. I'm about to get to the part where I got stuck writing it on paper, and that's when I give it to Amanda and she'll write/type on it and then I'll get it back and actually figure out what the hell we're doing. Writing a book together is great.

pluck up the courage and--snap
it's gone again
I start humming When Doves Cry
can someone help me, I think that I'm lost here

the bad thing about a laptop is that you never leave your room. I usually am all over the upstairs with all the lights on and doors open, and now I haven't left my room in three hours. or more. more. doing nothing makes me tired, so far today I fixed my iPod with laptop, ate two sandwiches, did yoga, flist. nothing else. endless monotony of nights and days all mixing together because you do the same things during both--that makes sense, I think. how in the summer you're asleep half the night and half the day and then there's no real way to keep time because you just work whenever you're awake. same things every day. play piano, write, eat, check flist, yoga. read. go out with the boyfriend somedays but it's the same then. be somewhere, be somewhere else. iTunes is giving me bad songs interspersed with Tori Amos so underneath the shade of a peppermint tree she can turn it out with a hero, she just rides into town knowing what they'll say, knowing they're around the corner

I don't seem to make much sense. being on break is bad for me, apparently, when I'm not workaholicing it up I'm waxing incoherent on my blog. time for another cup of tea to improve my status as a sentient being. It's an equation. Organism + n-tea = n-sencience(Organism).

and since we're down
might as well stay
might as well fry some eggs

typing up the trashy romance novel. do I say agnes' or agnes's? so far I keep doing the latter. It's very trashy without any actual sex as of yet. can't wait to get around to that just to break the monotony of descriptions of frail, shaking frames and Lucinda's soft, uncaring, crystalline voice and long dark/red/pale hair spread across the pillow like shadow/fire/light, well-defined arm muscles/leg muscles that give lines of power to their movements/poses/actions.

the killers' new cd is not as good as their old cd I hope you all know. I just said Thomas Cook sat astride a wide white hoarse as a cod wind blew through the field. Sage Francis makes me happy becuase it's that fast, indechiperable rap I love. take it or leave it if it's that hip-hop "Yeah" "uh" "baby" crap. I want wordsmithing. I'm a psychic without a sidekick holding the future hostage
abigailnicole: (Default)
My favorite question from academic game tonight:
"Identify the significant pronouns in this poem.
     Roses are red, violets are blue
     I'm a schizophrenic, and so am I."

I got it right. the answer was 'blue and red'.

we also had a question about object of a preposition in the sentence: "Psychics will lead the dogs to your body."

oh, and a

abigailnicole: (Default)
coming home is killing me! ugh. if it weren't for my boyfriend I would be so lost, simply because the people are so incredibly different. Nobody...is the same, if that makes sense. I can't take these people in large doses after being at GSP this long. I have to ease in slowly.

I now have to crosspost every blog between LJ (my primary blog), MySpace, and G-Space (Facebook imports my notes automatically, God bless it).

I came right back into church, where everyone else who went on the Jamacia Mission Trip gave a presentation on their experiences. It was so surreal, because I'm used to being a part of these people and this group. And they were only gone a week. All of church was dedicated to it, to one week in Jamacia--testimonies, slideshow, special music. I felt like I didn't exist, like I was completely alienated from my home.

tomorrow my boyfriend is bringing me chinese for lunch (shrimp-fried-rice) and we're going to sit around and watch Tenchi Universe, because we're cool. And then we have to go do Praise and Worship at the workcamp, because my boyfriend can actually play guitar and so my church adopted him. The funny thing is that at these events, I don't do anything. I sit around. But I have to go, because my boyfriend plays guitar-bass-drums in the praise band. And he plays them all well, which no one else in the band can actually do. So even though he's not a part of my church, and I'm the one getting left out, I'm the reason he's there. ...awkward? Methinksso. A bit. Awkward mututated cancerous turtle!

People, add me to IM instead of this constant Wall-writing on facebook. purplenicole@msn.com or abinicole on AIM. This is David and Michael I'm talking to. As well as Hannah or anyone else who wants to talk. Or you can call me! etc.

all of a sudden I miss everyone. Is that a Sigur Ros song? Or Modest Mouse CD, or something? I forget.

Maria Taylor opened for Jimmy Eat World, she was amazing. Jimmy Eat World opened with Kill (and I cried. FAVORITE SONG EVER), played Disintegration, Table for Glasses, a Go Big Casino song that he introduced as "new" (Carry Me), For Me This is Heaven, 23, and for an encore came out with an acoustic guitar and made the audience sing The Middle, which was HILARIOUS. It was amazing. Completely completley amazing. It was in a theatre, the Bijou Theatre in Knoxville--like an opera house theatre, with seats and balconies and everything. It was entirely different for a concert. Of course, if I hadn't been able to sit down I probably would have passed out from exhaustion. JEW the day after GSP? smart? oh yeah. I was so tired. But it was so worth it. I loved every minute.

The Bijou Theatre is located on S Gay Street, by the way. JEW on Gay Street. Ha,ha, ha.

now it is 11:58, a good time to end a blog. Happy tomorrow all.
much love,


abigailnicole: (Default)

March 2013


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