one of us

I discovered my old CD's and played them while working on stuff and cleaning up my room for my grand uncle and grand aunt from New Jersey who are coming on Wednesday. They'll be taking over my room, and I'll be relegated to sleeping on the floor again. I managed to finish The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (the original one, not the entire series) in about two hours and some odd minutes, and I just finished filling out the TA form. It's kind of a retro afternoon for me, and I'm afraid that I'm going to become terribly sentimental. Strange to hear what I used to love--this time, I actually understand why. And I do still like it. It's catchy and rather Euro techno club scene in terms of the background stuff, though some of the female vocals could definitely use some work. It's scary to think that the group members were all fifteen or sixteen when their album. They have a lot of potential in the catchy bubblegum Europop techno, but come to think of it, their next album was a little disappointing. I still can't tell Sara from Marie, but I'm randomly guessing that Marie is the one doing the main vocals. It's kind've (how does one spell that, anyway?) hard to tell. Eck, but why didn't they put "Knowing You, Knowing Me" on there? Or "Waterloo"? How very annoying.

My grandmother does not like Weird Al, needless to say. But he's bloody brilliant with his song parodies. Adore "Polka Power" from the "Running with Scissors" album. And I know exactly what they're talking about in "It's All About the Pentiums." Now all I have to do is find that Arrogant Worms song, "Horizon." It's damnably funny. But you really can't beat "Twenty Naked Pentcoastals in a Pontiac." Car Talk, how I adore thee.

You know, I used to really believe that the only thing I had good taste in was music. Sadly enough, I still think that's true.

I keep searching for things and finding them, things that I wasn't necessarily looking for in the first place but have found anyway. I'm starting to throw a lot more of my stuff out, thanks to mum. It's good for me, getting rid of junk, but it's always struck me that mum must throw away more things than most people or donate them. Then there's the problem of looking for things that aren't there anymore, like everything that I had from elementary school that wasn't a stuffed animal. Never mind; all of my stuffed animals besides my teddy bear were given away willingly, and all of them are from middle school and up. Change is good because it keeps us from getting into ruts, I suppose. I want to be young and act like a teenager but I also want to see what university is like. I still don't know what I'm doing in my future, and I feel terribly unprepared for it. Nobody is really big on my going to Quebec, which is sad because I really would like to go there. Britain is a lot more acceptable, but I'm sure once that possibility is out long enough everyone will try to steer me away from it. This is also assuming that I actually end up getting into any university at all other than DeVry. And I'm probably too stupid to go there anyway, and I'm sure that the tuition will be bloody hell. It has occured to me that nobody really wants me to be happy at university, just go there, dowell, and get a diploma + job. Maybe that's why I'm expected to go to Berkley. Take a chance on me. If you change your mind, I'm the first in line...

I'll stop sticking lyrics in the middle of my entry. Nobody ever really takes a chance on me though, unless they aren't American and are male. Erp, that sounds rather weird. My secret double lives are starting to catch up to me.

I was looking over my old camp address/e-mail/phone number roster, and I can't really let myself let go from it metaphorically. Interestingly enough David actually lives somewhat close. Funny to mention him; other than Esther, he was closest to Cathy at camp. He won't remember me, I'm sure. Some of the others might, and I still talk to some of them including Ann, my first real roommate. And then it struck me that I still really miss Cathy. I keep thinking that someday she's going to come back from Hong Kong and visit soon. She would've been a senior this year, and I just know that she would've come out here to visit Stanford and maybe even go to university there. She's never going to come back, but I can't repress what I want. After so many months it really should've gotten firmly imprinted into my brain that she's dead, but it hasn't exactly. Dormant thoughts ought to stay repressed, but unfortunately my brain tends to unrepress things pretty quickly. But I'll stop talking like I know about Freud.

It has occured to me that I still haven't told my parents anything about this, and at this rate I'm not sure if I ever will.

Where is Elena when I need her?