Sunday, September 30, 2007

The love of my life

I've come to accept that I'm going to grow old, alone, and be the town's spinster who all the children's mom look at an say, "you don't want to grow up and be like her." I'm okay with this, seriously I am.

You see, I don't do relationships. This year my excuse is that it's my senior year, next year it'll be my freshman year, after that I'll be saying that "I'm still young, I've got time." And that will be me until I hit menopause and am old, grumpy, wrinkly, and wearing polyester suits that emphasize my saggy tits. OR, this is a big OR because the previous possibility is probably the most depressing thing I could imagine, but my other option is falling in love, and love isn't predictable nor does it happen when you want it to.

And so me being Amanda, I will unknowingly pass it up to pursue my plans. Or I'll be dating a guy, he'll pop the question and I "won't be ready" because it will be my first relationship lasting more than a couple months...since freshman year. I plan on having several moderately long term relationships before getting married, but unfortunately this ideal contradicts all of my excuses.

Fortunately for me I have D.C., the nation's capital, and after college when I inevitably come back here, I'll have the city that i find comfort in, that can fit all my moods, will love me in my jimjams and light my way as I walk home in last nights clothes. The upside is that in this situation I'll be working as a columnist for the Post (remember this is city Amanda, not to be confused with suburb-teaching Amanda), stay out late, go home and write about whatever it was that I did, saw, whatever. OR I could be lobbyist, this could work out very well. All these different things though, this is the beauty of the District, absolutely anything is possible.

Nownow, one might presume that everything is possible everywhere, this isn't true. You see the Post is in D.C. and I really can't think of anything else I'd like to write for except maybe a music mag, like Magnet, Spin, AP, or a news mag, Newsweek, Time, or of course a girlie mag, Cosmo, Elle, Glamour (where i'd write about dirty things and fashion, AHA! not really though, I'm not that shallow). But the Post is my first choice. And then of course lobbyists, they don't hang out in downtown Denver, or Phoenix, they may travel there, but it's all centered here. (nt. i would never have near the interest in politics that I do if I hadn't been raised here) We can't forget the music scene, sure it's not L.A., Portland, or NYC, but it's decent, and I love it, and all the kids doing they're thing who've lived here their whole lives.

I love those kids, but I don't want to be one of them. They're all stayed here, I want to take a break and come back. That's how true love is, I think. One knows their true love, but leaves them for better situations only to come back, right? or have I just watched to many romantic flicks? Probably both.

Monday, September 24, 2007

forty days

Amanda is going to be eighteen in forty days and there is nothing her parents can do about it. absolutely nothing.

this means that she will be crashing at your house when she doesn't have a car to get into DC. just a heads up for everyone who lives closer to the metro than she does.

this also means she will be seeing all of the following:
the thermals or maria taylor on her birthday (november third guys)
bright eyes
georgie james
ted leo and the pharmacists
and others that she can't think of right now, but there are more, a lot more.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Happy Endings

so i'm listening to Samson by regina spektor, and christina and i have talked about it before, but the more i listen to it, the more i think about how god has a plan for us, and while that may be true, what if we don't want it, what if we want something different? what if Samson didn't want the power he was given? what if he really loved delilah? what if he fell to the natural man, and knew it, and was okay with it? what's so wrong with the man god created anyway? i think i'm doing alright. and i'm okay with being "rebellious," and the bible not mentioning me, because right now, i have books in mind that i will be mentioned in that people will want to read. they may not be written by prophets, but whose to say that i'm not a prophet, making predictions based on my intuition, i'm very much a prophet of my life. and right now that's so important, because no one else can really be right about me if not me. and one day the world'll read about me and they'll realize that this, this ridiculous perception they have about what they're doing here, may be right if they believe it's right for them, and if they question it, then it's not, and that's okay. because in the end everything is okay, it's always okay, there's always an end, and even tragedies have happy endings.

samson - regina spektor

loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
I have to go, I have to go
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed
And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads
But they're just old light, they're just old light
Your hair was long when we first met

[ Samson lyrics found on ]
Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed
Oh I cut his hair myself one night
A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light
And he told me that I'd done alright
and kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light
and he kissed me 'til the mornin' light

Samson went back to bed
not much hair left on his head
Ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed
Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down
Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one
And history books forgot about us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall

Thursday, September 13, 2007

counting down the days

It's the second week of school and all I'm concerned about are what shows I'm going to see and how I'm going to pay for them, when I should be filling out college applications, writing essays, and basically figuring out what the beginning of the rest of my life is going to look like.

My schedule is as follows:

1 - OER (no class, I get to come in at 8:30)
2 - AP Gov't
4 - Oceanography
6 - AP English
3/5/7 - Cosmetology

It's nothing excessive, nothing painful, but then there's this slight problem, oceanography. I thought it would be interesting, I was wrong; the teacher is sweet, but how you would expect an elementry school teacher to be sweet. I'm looking for something that'll keep me awake, and interested, not third grade, so I'm switching out. I'll be in GEMS, it's the senior seminar course where we sit around ant talk about whatever in some sort of depth, depending on the group of students. GEMS is supposed to be intellectually stimulating, and that's what I'm looking for, and hopefully this time next week I'll be in.

This doesn't seem like a huge deal, and it's not, but by not taking the fourth science I'm giving up getting the "Advanced Studies Diploma." Everyone that I've told is less than pleased, and thinks I should stick it out, but I'm Amanda, I've made my decision, and this is how it's going to be. I won't be going to school in-state if I can help it, and out of state schools could care less as long as I fulfill their requirements.

Then there's all my plans. I've wanted to go on a road trip after senior year since I was in second grade, THIS HAS TO HAPPEN.

So my plans at this time in order are: study for the SAT; take SAT...again (hopfully I'll get a decent score this time, that is if studying actually helps, at this point I wouldn't know); get various teachers who love me, but are often dissappointed that I don't live up to my potential, to give me fabulous recommendations; write essays, lots and lots of well thought out and well written essays that demonstrate who I am; and of course fill out applications... All the while I'll be saving money, as much of it as possible (while still seeing as many shows as possible, of course, without shows I wouldn't have anything to look forward to, so i wouldn't have anything to get me through my week). Sometime between now and next June I also need to buy a shitty car, one that can get me across the country and back and then die. I'm also leaning towards being a nanny next summer, they get paid a fair amount, I'm good with kids, why not? And, if it were in the city where I'm going to school that'd be perfect. I'm putting an add up on Craigslist after my birthday (Nov. 3rd guys, I expect monsterous amounts of cards and balloons, of course a simple email would suffice, unless I always get you amazing present and you don't get me amazing presents, in this circumstance YOU OWE ME. BIG. )

This whole "high school experience" has served it's purpose, and that was over three years ago, I've come, I've seen, I need to leave. I'm not a typical high school student in that, a) all my teachers love me, unless of course I didn't like them first, b) it's not just teachers, I can carry on a conversation with anyone, adults more than kids, and c) I haven't had that group that seemingly the majority of the general population has in high school, I'm very much a wanderer, loner, whatever you want to call it, and the majority of my friends are already in college so I'm already use to there long-distance friendships.

You may be wondering why I'm so set on going far, far away. I have lived in this Place, my entire life. The same house. I've seen innumerable amounts of people come and go. For once in my life, even if it's just the four years that I'm in college, I'd like to be the new kid. The one that someone like me would do for someone new here, would see me, recognize me as a new kid, unfamiliar to the territory and show me around. I've always wanted to see it from the other side, and if I stay here for school, I will become like every other person her, and stay here forever not having seen anything, or really been anywhere. DC is a fabulous city, it's definately a huge part of me, and I do see myself coming back one day. But that day is far, far, away, and for now I need some new scenery. Hopefully that'll come in the form of Colorado, Arizona, or Oregon, and a city. I need a city, just not this one, not now, and certainly not for the next four years. Eightteen years is a long time to live anywhere no matter how old you are.

Monday, September 3, 2007


i'm a fan of charity; giving my leftovers to that lady that hangs out around the fountain in old town; donating to the salvation army; those sorts of things. but favors, favors do not sit well with amanda. unless she asks, don't do it. DO NOT DO IT! SHE WILL NOT APPRECIATE IT! (unless it's in the form of flowers, brownies, or a victoria secret gift card, but let's be honest those aren't favors they're presents and amanda loves presents)

the perks of still living at home are fabulous, free food, a car that is accessible on the weekends (unfortuneately not all the time), occasionally money (when my parents get tired of seeing my we are scientists shirt everyday), those sorts of things. but my paretns, they are capbale of irritating me like no other. like last night, my dad decided to clean all the windows, great i dea dad, but my desk is in front of my window, and dad, you didn't put anything back. this morning my mom felt the need to fold, and start putting away my laundry; dealing with my clothes is a HUGE no-no. i hate the thought of anyone washing, drying, and touching my clothes. this isn't because i'm afraid they'll get dirty, but because i'm OCD about things being done my way. if it's not my way, and it's dealing with my things, it's definately the wrong way. and of course my dad felt the need to laugh at how funny it is when amanda's irriated by coming in and nonchalantly saying, "i think i'll go mess around in amanda's closet." he is so sweet.

my room may not be the cleanest, but all my stuff is in it, and they can certainly find something else to do that doesn't concern me. like shopping, or dancing, or walking... anything so long as they're not in my room, or trying to read over my shoulder.

now, i get this from my mom. but she asks for things to be done, and expects them to be done her way and when they're not she gets mad. especially when we have people over. i hate having people over simply because my mom feels the need to act as though brad pitt and jennifer aniston are breaking up all over again. it usually involves her asking me to help with dinner, getting mad because i didn't make the potatoes correctly, asking me to vaccuum, getting upset because i did it too early so it's not perfect when the guests arrive, or something similar.

this is why my family visits in short spurts. very rarely longer than three days. after that time, we're done, we've seen you, you're alive, that's great, but i'm going nuts having you rearrange the stuff on the counter in the bathroom, in my desk drawer, moving the location of the silverware, etc. i'll see you later.