for the band

CREATE YOUR BAND NAME & ALBUM COVER:

To Do This

1 - Go to Wikipedia. Hit “random”or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:RandomThe first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to Quotations Page and select "random quotations"or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3The last four or five words of the very last quote on the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to Flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7daysThird picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 - Use Photobucket or similar to put it all together.

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I saw this yesterday when I went on facebook for my weekly day off of lent, and I think it's one of the more awesome memes out there. I actually like how it turned out, especially that there happens to be a tree in the background of the picture. (I couldn't get the text to show up right so if you can't read it, the band name is 'striped treeshrew' and the album title is 'resist on principle). So yeah. Do this when you get bored, because it's a pretty fun method of procrasination.

About five minutes ago, I deleted A Great Perhaps. It's gone. It no longer exists. I know I wanted to keep it up there forever, with that one last post, all poignant (mamie) and angry and heartbreaking(lyhilarious), but Grace somehow got to it and said something about it. Luckily she thought it was fiction and just kind of scolded me for cursing, but if Grace found it then my mother could probably find it, and I don't want that. Plus, as much as I wanted that post up there, it made me sick to look at. And whenever I saw the blog name, or whenever I tried to be nostalgic and look at that blog and what it was, I couldn't read it the right way. It ceased to be funny or warm or lovely or whatever it was that I liked about it. The only thing I could think on every page was he read this. He knew this. Looking at it meant facing up to the fact that he knew so much, so many things that I never would have told him, so many things that I never even told people who I'd trust with my life. Which made me feel vulnerable and stupid and more angry. I'm hoping that deleting that will make it harder for me to dwell on what happened. I hate dwelling.

Anyway, to finally reach the major reason I started this post- we're having a poetry contest at school and I might write something new (I miss writing poetry) but I want to have at least one already written poem that I'm comfortable submitting. And, as I am once again in the perpetual night(s and nights and nights) of the I suck abyss, I have no idea what I can pick. So. If any of you can remember a poem that I wrote and they liked in particular, let me know. *hopeful face*

love,
Caroline

she sat me down and said to me, "i'm afraid you've misplaced your identity..."

writers block + anxiety + 1:20 in the morning amounts to approximently...

thirteen days till the dead
line, I am looking for a poem.

I sit on the edge of the bed I haven't slept on in a week
and search everywhere: I start with the walls

in birthday cards and photographs
but all I can think is that I should have posters.

what sort of nearly-sixteen-year-old girl
doesn't have posters? The wrong sort

surely, that is what I am. I look for poetry
under the broken typewriter, in the crevices

on my bookshelf. I yell out to it,
calling every name I can think of.

I shout for rhythm, for stanza, (I would even welcome
rhyme, I cry, at this point), for a perfectly equilateral

triangle of image, emotion and concept. I wait-
no answer. My beckonings reduced to a whimper

I collapse, bury my face into a stiff pillow and drift
to sleep, dreaming of salvation in the form of a white horse

not to take me to a castle faraway,
just to gallop in an eggshell.

--------------------------------------------------

Not a real poem.
Purely for my entertainment.
And yours, I hope.

ack.

STRESS.

only me when I'm with you.

OH my god, you have no idea how horrible school is without you. (I guess you wouldn't, would you?). It was bad. It was awful. I kept casting depressed glances towards the perpetual empty seats where you would have been and then Danielle kept catching me and thinking I was crazy and then at lunch Chloe said something about how she was sad you weren't there and I went into this whole completely overly dramatic monologue and then Courtney came up and she only had to catch three words to be like, *knowing look* "Oh yeah, Heather isn't here."



So basically the day was dreadful. Not exclusively because you weren't there, but that was a very large factor.



Oh! But the silver lining of your absence? Mr. Noll. Reading your part. And, therefore... SINGING.



I hate writing girly poetry. (such as the absolute crap on Don't Fret. I really need someone to post so that that isn't the only thing I see whenver I go there. Because it is bad. This is not me just being my usual self-deprecating self. That poem is BAAAAAD).Why does that always happen? Why do our brains conspire against us to make us all stupid and lame and cliche and pink?

I didn't notice about the ceasing of distractions, mostly because- I don't know. I knew pretty much nothing about the distraction. I got the story from Courtney. All she told me was "He likes her she might like him it's cute". Was there anything more to it than that? The one time I witnessed anything firsthand, it didn't seem ceased. (I mean, Allison picked up on it within ten minutes, and she knew nothing about the whole thing). I would kind of like to hear about all of this from your perspective, sometime, if you wouldn't mind talking about it. I've been kind of lost and out of the loop.

On Arizona: WOW, that is a wide range of wardrobe (a bathing suit and ski-ing clothes? oh. wait. yeah, i just remembered the existence of indoor pools about three seconds ago. I apologize). Also. I really hope it's great. Or at least good. Or at least as good as it can be. I know this all must be so insane and so hard and I don't think it really seems like you had that much of a choice about going. I hope you get a cell phone and if you do I will definitely be putting minutes on mine so that I can be really annoying (as I imagine I am being now. I'm reading this post and I'm not liking me very much) and text you all the time to make sure you're fine.



To segue from worrying about you to worrying about me



I'm worried about me.

I don't think I'm doing very well in the mental health department.

Particularily in thinking about (and having suckish dreams about) people (ah, person) who I hate and don't want to think about and god forbid dream about ever. I really wish I could obliterate him from the face of the planet but just from my head would be okay too.



Also, got my reccomendation letter (because there was a letter attatched, actually) back. Mrs. Riley is my favorite person in the whole entire universe, by the way. It's so incredibly nice that even if my portfolio sucks and I bomb my interview and my essay never even materializes, they might just let me in anyway because they assumed I was having a really long series of off-days. (or, you know, launch an investigation to make sure I didn't write the thing myself).



Also, I'm going to All State tomorrow. All State Chorus, for Emilea/Anna, in case you haven't stopped reading this post after the first two paragraphs because I made no effort to include you in half (or more?) of the post. Basically I have to sing this song that I keep failing at and then sight read. For judges. I'm so nervous it's not even funny. It makes it so much worse that Mrs. Young didn't want me to go. I'll probably have a break down at some point tomorrow on the bus.



And speaking of, I need to go find my 'sunday best' (ack) outfit for the tryouts.

So



I love you

Caroline