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Paige Marie
07 May 2009 @ 10:35 pm
Oh, what a noble, distinguished collection
of fine little friends you have made.
Hitting the tables without you again,
"No, we'll wait, no we promise we'll wait."
June makes these excellent sewing machines
out of common industrial waste.
She spends a few months at a time on the couch,
but she's safe, she wears shades, she wears shades.

Oh, but no one can stare at the wall
as good as you, my baby doll.
And you're racist for coming along.
You're almost human after all.
And you're learning that just 'cause
they call themselves friends doesn't mean they'll call.
They made the comment and jest,
but you've got the needle,
I guess that's the point of it all.

Maybe a week in the tropics would help
to remind you how nice life can be.
We propped you right up in a chair on the deck
with a beautiful view of the sea.
But a couple days later we came back,
you and the chair were nowhere to be seen.
You had magically moved to the closet,
eyes fixed on the spot where the dryer had been.

Oh, but no one can stare at the wall
as good as you, my baby doll.
And you're racist for coming along.
You're almost human after all.
Why on Earth would I keep you propped up in here
when you so love the fall?
The patterns laid out on the bed,
with dozens of colors of thread,
but you've got the needle,
I guess that's the point of it all.

It's better to waste your day
watching the scenery change at a comatose rate
than to put yourself in it and turn into
one of those cigarette ads that you hate.
But while you were sleeping some men came around,
said they had some dimensions to take.
I'm not sure what they were talking about,
but they sure made a mess of your face.

But still no one can stare at the wall
as good as you, my baby doll.
And you're racist for playing along,
you're almost human even now.
And just 'cause they call themselves experts,
it doesn't mean sweet fuck all.
They got the permanent prices, homes with a stable address,
and they've got excitement and life by the fistful,
but you've got the meaning,
I guess that's the point of it all.
Paige Marie
25 April 2009 @ 11:57 pm
I can't stop listening to Division Day by Elliott Smith. It's ridiculous. I wonder what he means by "division day." People seem to think it refers either to the die one dies (as in the body's separation from the soul) or separating oneself from other people. Both are plausible, but I think the first one is more probable. It sounds like someone making up their mind to commit suicide, honestly. The song sounds decisive and almost... triumphant?

I'm going to New York tomorrow with the band, which is fairly exciting. I've only been there once before. I was only about seven and we went to see The Lion King on Broadway. That's all we did. I didn't see any of the iconic New York sites. But tomorrow we're going to Rockefeller Center, and I'm pretty excited. It's probably going to make me really nervous, but it'll be worth it. We're going to see some sort of symphony. They're going to have to designate someone to watch me and make sure I don't freak out or get lost or something tragic. XD

EDIT: I saved this from the internet void, 'cause Livejournal asked me if I wanted to restore the draft. I already went to New York. We toured NBC studios and I got a TAPS shirt. I had no idea that NBC owned the Sci-Fi channel. The orchestra was great only because there was a violin player named Mark Schmoockler. We had a field day with that guy's name. They also had a harpsichord player named Lionel Party. We had fun with his name, too, but not as much as with Mark Schmoockler. How awful! It's impossible to take someone with the name Schmoockler seriously. Like, really?! What if he was in the army? Private Schmoockler. Or like, Reverend Schmoockler, Father Schmoockler, First Mate Schmoockler, Captain Schmoockler, Corporal Schmoockler. Lol, Mark Schmoockler, MD. Mark Schmoockler, the Boy Wonder. Mark Schmoockler is a loose cannon cop on the edge.
Poor guy.
And then we spent the whole three hour bus ride home talking in a weird Borat-esque accent and saying "haha surprise!" about horrible, horrible situations. And "Your face is covered in my haha surprise juice!" Stuff like that. We also had this joke about a broken chord that was supposed to be holding luggage. We said that it was to hang oneself, and we were like "Haha surprise for everyone else! Make world better place yes." And then I forgot that there was also "Boohoo surprise." We also established that I have a huge Schmoockler. It's 12 parsecs long.

I've got to list all the ska puns I made with historical and famous figures' names somewhere:
- Kurt Skannegut
- Skahmas Edison
- Immanuel Skant
- Skascar Wilde
- Skanor Oberst
- (LOL) Skamas Kalnoky (It's funny 'cause he's relevant to ska)
Current Music: Karma Police - Radiohead
Paige Marie
21 April 2009 @ 03:36 pm
Hint: Read title to tune of "Switchblades and Infidelity" by Fall Out Boy.

Wow, I never thought I'd ever have to name-check Fall Out Boy in my Livejournal entries, ever.

MORE EXTREME (and I mean extreme) IMMATURITY. Collapse )
Paige Marie
15 April 2009 @ 11:47 pm
There's really only so much one can do on the internet. Where is everyone? Well... I guess this is when realization smacks me hard in the face. I've only really got one friend I talk to outside of forced social situations. Well, no. But I've only got one friend I talk, comfortably and voluntarily, every day. And when she's not around, it's all me. But it's not even that. The internet seems devoid of life. None of the quasi-celebrities I stalk follow on Twitter are updating or anything.
The music is fitting, too, it's kind of cool. Well, the song's changed now, and I'm listening to Gold Lion, but before I was listening to Alphabet Town by Elliott Smith, which has this eerie, mournful harmonica part in it. It just sounds like it should be playing in a ghost town. But not a stereotypical old west ghost town... a ghost town where people still live there, but it might as well be empty. One of those towns where nobody ever really goes anywhere, and everything's really quiet. That's what the song reminds me of.

You know, it's weird, when I hear certain songs I always see certain, usually pretty random things in my head. Like, this song, Cupid's Trick by Elliott Smith, I always see like, a candle on a really, really dark blue background. That's a weird one where it's actually a thing. Other songs just make me think of colors. It's always the same colors, though. Like, This Charming Man is always a yellowish color, but with that song, there are images, too. Like, dirt path with long grass, but it's all yellow. Take It Easy (Love Nothing) is blue and green. It's really weird now that I think of it. Kid A looks really nice. It's like, white speckles in front of black, but the black is moving like water or something. Sometimes the speckles are colored, it depends. Turn Into and Gold Lion by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are pink and green respectively. Against the Peruvian Monster is the only shade of orange I have ever liked.

I'm insane.

Well, I have nothing else to do or to talk about, so why not talk about my mental problems? Well, no, then I'd be here until the wee hours of the morning.
Oh. I took this quiz on Facebook earlier that determined which of the original 151 Pokemon you were, and it told me I was Snorlax. Isn't that just peachy?
Fuck my life moments suck for a little while, but really they just make for great stories later.

The band Bottle Up and Go totally got their name from the Elliott Smith song Bottle Up and Explode!
Yeah. I really need to stop listening to Elliott Smith so much.
Jim yelled at me in the car the other day - we were listening to Sweet Adeline and I said I didn't care enough to get mad about something, and he goes "You gotta stop listening to that or you're gonna lose all your will to live by the time we get to Tim's house." I then proceeded to play songs like I Know It's Over, Transmission, Arienette and Dead and Lovely. It was quite funny.

Well... I'm going to try and find something to do. If not, I'll find something to eat. Actually, I think I might go to bed soon, it's like midnight. Goodnight, world.
Current Music: Alphabet Town - Elliott Smith
Paige Marie
15 April 2009 @ 12:26 pm
I'm thinking about getting a new layout for my journal. I love Johnny Marr and all, but times, they are a-changin'.

I'm at my grandma's house right now and there's not much to do by way of the internet, 'cause this computer is pretty slow. My brother's in the other room watching The Waterboy. I always feel bad for Adam Sandler's character in that movie... he's so pitiful. I've never seen the whole thing, though.

I watched Slaughterhouse Five last night. It was pretty good. Obviously I like the book much, much better, but only because it has that Vonnegut tone that can't really be translated into a movie. It was still a pretty good adaptation. Billy was very endearing. The only problem I had with it was the exclusion of "So it goes." How do you do any sort of adaptation of Slaughterhouse Five without once saying "So it goes?" There wasn't all that much death in it, either. There's a part in the book where Vonnegut just talks about a bunch of things dying and says "So it goes." I mean, Edgar dies in the movie, and so does Valencia...well, then again, all of Dresden dies too. The slaughterhouse scene was also cut down... I don't know. I liked the movie, but now that I think of it, there were a lot of things that could have been better about it. Clearly, there are things that just can't be done in movie form, like the whole rant about things dying, but still... they should've said "So it goes" at least once. I'm a purist. I like to stick to the book.

Now that I've said that, "purist" is a pretty good way to describe me. I really am a purist. I hate genre crossovers, I hate adaptations that "take creative license," or departures from original styles and such.
Oh well.

I'm going to get a cup of coffee.

And now I'm back. I really wish people actually had Livejournals and read mine and whatnot. It would be so much better than just writing for myself and perhaps one other person. Though it has been said that to write well you should write for one person in particular. I guess I do that. It doesn't make my writing any better, though. Hah, writing about writing makes me laugh. And now I'm writing about writing about writing. I've cannibalized my journal! It's a paradox machine!

Alright never again.
Paige Marie
So I've come to the conclusion that Elliott Smith's music is aural sex. Yes, AUral sex, with an au-. As in "pertaining to the ears." Clever, aren't I?

It's very true, though. Just listen to Say Yes, Sweet Adeline, or Waltz #2.
Paige Marie
13 April 2009 @ 09:41 pm
The only way I'm gonna get back into the habit of writing close to daily is to force myself to write about things.

I'll write about darma (drama club). I had resigned myself to the play crashing and burning, but now I'm not so sure. I think Derrick and I will be good, at the very least. We've been running Act II and things are looking good. I just need to finish memorizing my lines. For the most part I'm good, but there are a few I get mixed up and like one long one that I always forget. Then I'll just need to work on doing songs and putting more emotion into my lines, I guess. I'd never had to kiss anyone in a play before, it's kind of awkward. Like really awkward.

The ensemble, on the other hand, has no idea what the fuck it's doing. They don't know any of the songs yet and they can't dance. It's terrible. Everyone's just chumbling along when they should be polishing the dance moves. God help us when we do War Is a Science, if we do it, on Wednesday. The only number that looks halfway acceptable is Magic To Do. I guess that's how high school Drama goes.

I really, really love the play though. Pippin is a wreck and love him. Not to mention all the sexual humor (that we're cutting out). But my favorite line in the whole play is when Pippin says "I've been searching and searching for something fulfilling and meaningful to do with my life and I haven't even come close. So I am in utter, abject, complete despair." Really. Best friend.

I think I might watch it. The filmed version of it. If I can find it, I'm definitely going to.
Paige Marie
12 April 2009 @ 10:44 pm
Me: Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?
Jim: Because my woman suit is at the dry cleaners and my Ian Curtis suit is a little tight in the neck.

That's horrible but it made me laugh hysterically all the same.

So I got through yesterday, the anniversary of Kurt Vonnegut's death, without crying. ...much. I squeezed out one or two tears, yes, but it would just be wrong not to. Am I right? I'm really thirsty. I think I may go and get a drink, then finish writing this when I come back.

Or maybe I'll just start a new paragraph. I really need to start writing more. I just can't get back into it. I stopped, then I moved to Tumblr and I just can't get back into that Livejournal groove. I smell like firewood. It's 'cause I wore this sweatshirt to Ali's house, where there was a fire. God damn it, I'll never get this smell out. Good thing I like the smell of firewood.

So, in other news, my dog almost died today. Well, we thought he was going to. He hate the better half of a chocolate bunny. We were all freaked out this morning, but he was fine. He didn't even get sick. Then we thought, "Well, he ate broken glass ornaments around Christmastime, I guess he can survive a little chocolate." Then I went back to hating him. I sort of hated him when I thought he was dying, still. I'm heartless.

In other news, I think the Blood Brothers were pretty greatly influenced by Fugazi.
I'll be right back. I may or may not post another entry.
Current Music: Isolation - Joy Division
Paige Marie
08 April 2009 @ 10:28 pm
This is basically the best thing since Scary Scottish Hotel Room.

Actually I lied. Nothing will ever compare to Scary Scottish Hotel Room.
Current Music: Depression - Black Flag
Paige Marie
06 April 2009 @ 03:38 pm
It's such a relief to be back to Livejournal. I thought I was going to go crazy without it, actually. It's nice just to get thoughts down once in a while. I know I had a brief spat with writing, but really, it's one of those things where I love it so much I just want to stab it.

I'm over-tired. I'm running on exclusively adrenaline, I think. I haven't slept past 9:45 AM in two weeks. I know that shouldn't make or break me, but it makes a difference in my case, I think. I'm one of those people who needs lots of sleep. I've been going to bed really early, too, like 10:30. Weird, huh? 

You know, Adrenaline would make a nice name if it wasn't already the name of a naturally produced drug. It probably just looks nice because it looks like Adeline. I like that name. It's probably got a lot to do with the song Sweet Adeline, but whatever. I'll probably end up naming all my children after songs or dead people anyway. Or both. My first born child would be like, Kurt William or some such nonsense. Maxwell Elliott, perhaps?

Speaking of Kurt, I've been reading Palm Sunday. It's quite good, although it's definitely not his best work. It turns out that I started reading it just in time to be done right before the third anniversary of his death. His Deathiversary, if you will. Which is sad. I still haven't gotten over his death, even though he was 86 and it was time for him to die. It's probably what he would have wanted. I've got some issues with the way he died though. He fell on his head. What an old-person, senile way to go! I'd much prefer to think he was mattress surfing, the scenario that Josh suggested. He had a bit too much purple drank and he fell over the banister. I love the fact that he never had lung cancer. He chain-smoked those Pall Malls from the time he was fourteen right up until he died. When I say he chain-smoked them, I mean he chain-smoked them. There's one interview that reports he'd almost finished the pack by the end. Anyway, the fact that Vonnegut fell to his death proves that there is a god, and he has an excellent sense of humor.

I hate the fact that my paragraphs get longer as a go on. It makes my writing look so unbalanced.

I've got to do things now, I think.
PS - This song is hilarious. 60 Revolutions by Gogol Bordello. Gogol Bordello is notorious for their Eastern European sound, however this song is half in Spanish. Elementary Spanish, at that ("Que rico chocolate"). WTF.

Current Music: 60 Revolutions - Gogol Bordello