Organization Amongst The Chaos

After months of talking about it and countless minutes browsing around the furniture section at Target, (only to find it in the organization section of the store) I found exactly what I wanted.

A bookcase.

A black bookcase that fits almost perfectly on my desk. I say almost perfectly because it takes up the majority of the right side. Despite the fact it takes so much room, it’s a welcome piece of organizational beauty.

I can’t say that my desk was a mess before I purchased the bookcase, but I honestly can’t say that it was tidy either.

Going from left to right:

The framed black and silver scratch board portrait of Ville Valo I did Senior year…In front of the picture is a silver and white bank teller style lamp, a black spider web candle holder that holds sweat bands and bracelets I used to wear when I was twelve, a mug I made in my Art class Senior year (that someone else painted because I wasn’t there) holding a red Coke bottle and more bracelets, a glass skull candle holder where my Burt’s Bees lip balms are kept, and a clear glass block that holds my pens and markers.

My black pinstripe Dell laptop I somewhat received four years ago is in front of such items, along with a polar bear PEZ dispenser from the movie The Golden Compass I named Heisenbear (the only reason I bought it is because it’s a bear). A frosted candle holder (that’s actually used for candles), a pumpkin candle holder, a black and white rabbit whose pattern resembles that of a Ladybug, and a clown named Jared that used to be on the top shelf of my locker in the 8th grade.

An Aspen Matthews figure from the comic book Fathom, another glass candle holder, the fist stack of books I own (ones I’ve already read), a black glass block, harboring miscellaneous items, including my Aviator sunglasses and a bookmark I recently unearthed from when I was in Kindergarten. A Vera Bradley coin purse I received for Christmas two years ago, a gold three-tier candle holder, a black picture frame holding two pictures taken on prom night…In front of it a Lego Eiffel Tower my brother made me, a black iPod speaker, a light Jade colored vase with Koi fish as handles, keeping a paper fan and multiple business cards for the same tattoo shop safe…Lastly, a Jack Skellington jewelry box a friend of mine gave to me for Christmas one year, supporting the second stack of books I own (the ones I haven’t read yet).

All 42 books (yes, I bought three new books a couple of weeks ago at the bookstore), now reside on the four shelves of my new bookcase, with the exception of a poetry book a friend gave me Sophomore year, Edgar Allen Poe and Stephenie Meyer. Those six books are placed on top of said bookcase, my Jack Skellington jewelry box is balanced atop the assorted poetry and Poe, while Meyer’s saga is under the protection of Dean, a Beagle stuffed animal that I received after the accident I had at work two years ago.

The rest of the items I mentioned on my laundry-list of things are still on my desk, with the exception of a couple of items that fit perfectly in the free space of the bookcase.  My frosted candle holder and Aspen Matthews reside in the lower right shelf where one book stood alone, and next to that, under  Between a stack of alphabetized pieces and Stieg Larsson’s trilogy, is my black, white and green Vera Bradley coin purse. My Ladybug rabbit is nestled near smaller books on the upper left shelf, while the Lego Eiffel Tower and Heisenbear rest above…Everything is in a proper, organized place. I never thought I’d say that in regards to my desk.

From Bradbury, Ellis and Poe, to Larsson, Palahniuk and Thompson (and every author in between), the pieces of written word that I obsess over are finally arranged as such, and honestly, I’m feeling pretty good about it. I know it probably sounds lame, but it’s true. I feel better about sitting down at my desk to write now. I actually want to. I have more space. I don’t have to be afraid of the possibility of books falling over, or not having enough room to spread out. I’m comfortable sitting at my desk because everything is indeed organized…

It’s really the little things.

If only everything was this easy to organize.

Fahrenheit 36 (And Only Getting ‘Worse’)

Something tells me I’m not like ordinary girls. Normal girls hyperventilate over the newest fashion and everything shoes…Yes, I am stereotyping my own sex, but I could care less. The truth isn’t considered stereotypical…Where most females splurge on things of that nature, I find myself standing in an entirely different classification. I splurge on items of paper and bindings, consisting of thoughts and experiences by designers of the written word.

Books.

In June, I wrote that I had a number of books, my thoughts on what the world would be like without them and what I myself would do without them. Recently, I realized that I might have a slight obsession. Slight could possibly be an understatement. I stated that I had 31 books. That statement is now a flat-out lie. I now own 36.

36 books.

I’m seriously considering buying a book shelf like my mom has been saying I should for a while. Every time she walks into my bedroom, actually. What can I say? Books have been my safe haven since I was fourteen. Books were my escape from cruel assholes at school, whatever pressure breaking the glass that just happened to be my skin, anything and everything. Books were always there for me. Books and music. But we won’t go into music because I’ve made that obsession clear many times over again and I have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Better cut to the chase before I become slightly distracted and go off topic.

The five books that I added to my grand collection are as follows:

Bret Easton Ellis’ The Rules of Attraction, his very first novel Less Than Zero and its sequel Imperial Bedrooms…I fell in love with Mr. Ellis’ unique style of writing when I first read American Psycho. It was one of the first stepping-stones in my incredible journey through the land of all things written. I remember reading it like it was yesterday. My fourteen year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend certain aspects of the novel, and wasn’t really shocked by the amount of violence. Now that I’m older, it’s more than safe to say that I understand every aspect and while some of the violence does make me cringe, I’m not shocked by any of it…What the hell does that say about me as a person?… I’ve been in love with his style and I don’t see that changing.

Hunter S. Thompson’s Hell’s Angels: The Strange And Terrible Saga Of The Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs, an interesting and brutal account of a year spent riding with the infamous Hell’s Angels M.C…I fell head-over-heels for Thompson’s trademark Gonzo journalism two years ago when I received Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas for Christmas. My adoration for his signature style only grew stronger when I read The Rum Diary this spring…Yes, as I said in the paragraph above about Mr. Ellis, the same can be said for Mr. Thompson and his style of writing. I don’t see myself falling out of love with his Gonzo journalism any time soon.

The last (not the absolute last) and only book I’ve finished so far, is one I found by accident. I know I say that I find some things by accident all the time, and it is a genuine accident every time. It’s not like I knew I would discover that Slipknot/Stone Sour lead singer Corey Taylor had written a book…Yes, you read right…I was surprised, extremely interested and seriously excited when I found that Mr. Taylor’s work, Seven Deadly Sins: Settling The Argument Between Born Bad And Damaged Good, was on Barnes & Noble’s website. I was searching the frontman because curiosity struck and I wondered what year he was born, (causing me to discover the existence of said book). I’d watched Slipknot’s video for their song “Snuff” for the first time, and was curious, yo. Yes, my inner Jesse Pinkman just came out. I apologize for the slight distraction.

I’d like to say that the same statements I made about Mr. Ellis and Mr. Thompson can also be said for Mr. Taylor, but they cannot. I had never read anything written by Mr. Taylor, with the exception of Slipknot and Stone Sour lyrics of course, but that’s different…Yes, lyrics are indeed words written but there is a difference between words written in a song and a 252 page book. Sure, the person writing both is the same but there is so much more to a person than the songs they play or the lyrics they write…

I could go on about how I came to listen to both Slipknot and Stone Sour and all that jazz, but that would make the post even longer than it is and I’d like to write an entire piece as oppose to lumping it in with a post that talks of said bands’ lead singer. It would just make sense and be a more beautiful thing.

…Now that I’ve established that I shall sooner or later write a post about Slipknot and Stone Sour (which I was actually thinking about writing anyway), I will continue with the topic at hand…I really think I have a problem sometimes, going off of topic and such…I was unsure what to expect when I began to read Seven Deadly Sins because this was Mr. Taylor’s first book and I think it’s safe to say no one knows what to expect when an author writes their first book…And what a great first book it was.

I know some people would be so bold to say that the only reason I purchased the book is because I’m a Slipknot and Stone Sour fan, which I am, but that isn’t the case. I’m always curious about other peoples’ thoughts/opinions on different topics and this is just an example of that. I won’t go into too much detail, but as the name suggests, it is about the Seven Deadly Sins, and Mr. Taylor’s view on how they are indeed not sins at all, but just a part of every human being. While I will say no more (concerning the content of the book), I will say this: I have a massive amount of respect for Mr. Taylor as a person. Seven Deadly Sins is the first book in a very long time, if not the first, to make me come close to crying my eyes out, while still making me laugh my ass off. It is by far the most refreshing piece I’ve read in a long time, and I’m seriously in love with Mr. Taylor’s brutal honesty and sharp wit, as well as his fearlessly uncensored accounts…Why can’t all writers be like that?

….

I do apologize.

….

I found myself distracted, watching Nine Inch Nails videos and Marilyn Manson interviews on YouTube, when I should be completing this post…In all honesty, Mr. Ellis, Mr. Thompson and Mr. Taylor are outstanding writers, each with their own style and venom. I’m unsure as to what else needs to be said. I can go on gushing all day about how I respect both Mr. Ellis and Mr. Thompson as writers, and Mr. Taylor as a musician and writer, but I don’t want to be repetitive. Not today. I do know, however, it’s definitely safe to say that I am not like ordinary girls, and that I indeed have an obsession with books, devouring and savoring every word, sentence and paragraph…And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Individuality is a dying breed…Don’t you think it’s time to revive it?

Fahrenheit 31

I have 31 books stacked up high on my desk in my bedroom. The collection varies, including the sparkling vampire saga that is Twilight (Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn), yes I got sucked into the teen sensation when I was seventeen, the intricately woven world of Lisbeth Salander in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo trilogy (The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Fire and The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet’s Nest) and a man’s quest to Hell and back that changed the world’s perception of the afterlife forever, Dante’s Inferno trilogy (Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso)…Oh what the hell, I might as well mention all the other books I own while I’m at it.

I own the following:  A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess,  American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, Of Mice & Men by John Steinbeck,  Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk,  Dracula by Bram Stoker, Let The Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist, Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay, Ink Exchange by Melissa Marr, The Shadow Thieves by Anne Ursu, The Devil In The White City by Erik Larson, IT by Stephen King, Flowers + Filth and Prose & Poems by Wil Francis, Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas and The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson, Most Loved Poems Of The American People, and Edgar Allen Poe: Complete Tales & Poems, not to mention the trilogies and saga I noted in the paragraph above.

The fact that I have a bunch of books isn’t really what’s important though. What is important is where would our society be without them?

You’re probably asking how  this question arose, and as always, I have an answer. I recently purchased three Ray Bradbury novels, The Illustrated Man, Fahrenheit 451 and Something Wicked This Way Comes. I’d read  Wicked when I was thirteen for a school project, and fell in love with it…Whenever I thought about the book in the past, I thought about my grandpa and it’s safe to say I still do. Despite the fact he himself never read the novel (as far as I know), it reminds me of him. My grandpa and the Fall season, along with everything the wonderful season brings. I began reading the novel in Autumn, when I would see him everyday after school, via the too-obvious connection, but I won’t go into too much right now because that’s not the subject at hand…Strangely, I had never read Fahrenheit 451 but it thought I would broaden my horizons. Plus it got awesome reviews, and come on, it’s Ray Bradbury. The story sounded oddly familiar, like one I had my freshmen year, but it was quite different as I read on.

If you aren’t familiar with 451, it tells of a futuristic world where it’s a fireman’s job to start fires instead of extinguish them, burning books, the written word banned by the government. The main character, a fireman who becomes conflicted with everything he thought he knew and all the things he discovers along the way. I won’t give anymore away, but the book had me thinking: Where would we as people be without books?

Being an avid reader since I was fourteen, I honestly don’t know where I would be without books. Books are a great way to pass the time, and depending on what you’re reading, can be a whole lot more entertaining than what’s on TV. They open the door to another world, introducing you to characters that while are fiction, are somehow strangely individuals we can all relate to. Without books, this world wouldn’t be as interesting. Without books, we wouldn’t expand our punctuation and grammar, something that is, believe it or not, pretty important. Without books, we wouldn’t be able to learn about the triumphs and tragedies this world has faced, and see how much we’ve evolved since. Without books, people just might become mindless drones that watch TV 24/7, unable to grasp the possibilities of the written word. Without books…I know for sure I wouldn’t enjoy a world like that.

Next time you pick up a book at your library or from your collection, ask yourself: Where would we be without books? The answer might just amaze.

The written word is your escape from the every day, a safe haven when your own world isn’t.

I Apologize In Advance 

I think it’s pretty clear that I haven’t written a blog post in over a month and there’s good reason. A little thing called Life decided to go into over-drive and become crazy and exciting at the same time, but enough about that right now…

I would just like to apologize to anyone who actually reads this little blog for there not being anything new to read in a while. I totally shouldn’t be apologizing because it’s my blog and I can write whenever I would like to, but I still feel like I should and therefore I am. I have what seems like a ‘million and one’ drafts that I’ve been working on, but haven’t got a chance to finish. Fear not, those drafts will indeed be posted.

I apologize again and hope that you enjoy the new posts as they become well, posted.

😉

The Nerve/The Legend

Something just came to my attention. Well, a while ago actually…I’m not sure if it matters or if it’s that big of a deal, but I think it proves a fact. People will gravitate to someone after something very tragic happens. It’s almost like no one pays that much attention to that person, and then when something unexpected happens, they flock to the scene. It seems like that’s sort of what happened with late actor Heath Ledger. My friend brought it up, and it had me thinking a bit.

You’re probably asking how I came to this realization…I saw the movie Lords of Dogtown for the first time, and my friend brought it up before the movie started.

As bad as it might sound, it is true. After people learned that Heath Ledger had passed, it seemed like all of a sudden people were huge fans of him. It seemed like everyone immediately recognized him as the Joker in The Dark Knight, completely forgetting about the movies he’d played in before, probably because they didn’t know the movies he’d played in prior to The Dark Knight. Focus only on a movie everyone knows, instead of the ones that got him the start to be able to play in his most well-known picture. That’s original.

With all honesty involved here, I first fell in love with Heath Ledger as an actor when I saw 10 Things I Hate About You. I didn’t know that it was a modern adaptation of The Taming Of The Shrew until I’d seen it a couple times and found out from my sister, but that didn’t really make a difference. He played the character of Patrick Verona perfectly, and I don’t think the movie would’ve been the same without him as the rebel who ends up having a little of a soft side.

The next movie I’d seen Ledger in was The Patriot, as a part of a school project in the 8th grade. I’m pretty sure I’d missed the beginning of the movie because I wasn’t in school when it started, but I’d seen the rest of it. His role as Gabriel Martin, a patriot’s son, is a far-cry from that of Verona in 10 Things but that’s the entire idea of acting. I distinctly remember that some of the girls sitting in front of me thought that he wasn’t bad-looking, which honestly, he wasn’t. They thought this for most of the movie until…They found out that he was one of the main characters in the controversial, award-winning film Brokeback Mountain. I can’t say that I wasn’t shocked upon learning that Heath Ledger was to play opposite of Jake Gyllenhaal in the particular role he was in, but I didn’t lose any respect for him. Yeah, I was pretty surprised and what have you, but whether you’re in a provocative role or not, something new to you or not, it doesn’t change you as a person. You’re still the same person once you leave the set of whatever movie you’re shooting or whatever it is you’re doing. Some people, I think, don’t understand that.

Another Ledger film, that I still haven’t seen all of, is Candy, filmed in his native of Australia. From what I saw of it, the movie isn’t hard to follow, but is very raw and real. The story of Candy revolves around the complicated and deadly love between artist Candy and poet Dan. Their love that was once strong and stable, gives way to Dan’s heroin addiction and swirls into something they never saw coming. Like any movie that focuses on more of the real world than some are willing to accept, it really makes you think about how some people live their lives and what happens when some kind of dependency ruins a part of them or in the process, destroys someone else. The other film I still haven’t managed to watch all of is A Knight’s Tale. I swear, it’s been on a million times and I’ve never seen the whole thing. A Knight’s Tale, inspired by The Canterbury Tales, came out after 10 Things and seems to be one of the movies other than The Dark Knight that people seem to recognize him in. Don’t get me wrong, The Dark Knight displays one of Ledger’s best performances via the Oscar that he won, but there was more that led up to that point. While Candy shows real life in a present-day, on the receiving end of an addict in love with the two very different things in his life, A Knight’s Tale shows real life in a completely different time, on the receiving end of a squire who fills his dead master’s shoes, literally, with his jousting talents.

The last movie I saw Heath Ledger in was, as with almost everyone in the entire world, The Dark Knight. Before I’d seen the movie, I heard a lot about how the classic villain wasn’t the same criminal that was portrayed by Jack Nicholson or that of Cesar Romero before him. Every actor has their own way of portraying characters and Ledger’s rendering was no exception. While Nicholson and Romero’s interpretations of The Joker seemed clean and well-kept (for a criminal) as far as make-up and clothing go, Ledger’s version was more gritty and rough, via the smudged make-up and cleverly stylish mismatched clothes. Out of all three actors’ perspectives on the classic character and his deranged nature, it seems like Ledger’s interpretation was unexpected. The very core of his character bleeds with the corruption and insanity of a society driven under, something that previous outlooks didn’t display in such the manner that you get chills down your spine.

Most people are quick to believe that The Dark Knight is the Australian actor’s last movie before his untimely passing…and they’re right for the most part. The fantasy film, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, would have been Ledger’s final finished movie, but everything doesn’t always work out how it should…Oddly enough, the movie still manages to work out. The main character, Tony, is able to go travel through this imaginarium (via the title) and as he travels, his image changes. Upon Ledger’s untimely departure, the role of Tony was taken by Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell, working out perfectly since Tony’s character looks different every time he goes through the imaginarium. Even though the film didn’t finish with Ledger fully present, I would still like to see it for myself and see how good it is.

The whole time I watched Lords of Dogtown, I wasn’t thinking about the comment my friend made beforehand, but how I would’ve like to live in California in the 1970’s. I could honestly picture summer, the sun all around, watching people skateboard in empty swimming pools, so care-free without a worry in sight. Aside from the fact I was thinking about summer in California, I felt pretty educated because I honestly never knew where the sport/culture of skateboarding started. I had really never thought about it, and after the movie ended, I still felt proud that I knew how it all started. It’s pretty amazing how something so simple as a way to kill time could be the next big sport. I was also amazed to know that the movie was written by Stacy Peralta…The Stacy Peralta. One of the three individuals that started the skateboarding movement and went on to become a legend. That definitely made me smile. Just learning and knowing how the legends actually became legends, it was 100% worth it.

Seeing Dogtown was (as I just said) definitely worth it. Not only did it feature the beloved and missed Heath Ledger, but it also showcased the origin of how skateboarding started and how the legends came to be. That’s the beauty about movies sometimes, you learn little (or big) facts that you never knew before. May Mr. Ledger rest in peace and the heart & soul of skateboarding live on.

Life is a joyride of non-stop ups and downs. Live every day and regret nothing.

Better With A Comfy Sweater & Chiodos

A while ago I said that the volleyball that was played during my gym class was pretty boring and not very amazing. I think we’re getting better, though. I’m not sure if I can say the same for myself, considering the fact I got hit in the head with the ball in our first real class game Thursday.

It’s typical protocol to wear the required gym attire to class every day. A pair of shorts and T-shirt, along with the occasional hoodie. Pretty simple. The majority of the time, I’m in the proper wear of surf shorts and the random shirt of the day. Thursday, I had my black shorts and dark purple Nightmare Before Christmas tee. My iPod shuffle was attached at my hip, as it has been ever since I realized I get pretty motivated through loud music. I didn’t bother to play it during the game, though. I figured I would try and actually pay attention for once. It didn’t get me very far…

I’ll admit, volleyball games have gotten better. The people playing actually do something now, with the exception on some days. I’m hardly ever bored when playing. That is, unless there’s another class in the gym, and everyone decides to gather to the net. Something like that can get really annoying if you’re wanting to actually play a game. With that once-and-a while-occasion, it’s a pretty good day in gym usually. All and all, I’d say we’ve improved.

…I’m not even sure how far into the game we were. All I knew was that the team I was on wasn’t hitting anything for a while and the other team was winning. We were obviously losing. The ball was coming right at me, which was probably the second or third time it’d came to me the entire game. The hit would’ve been perfect if I hadn’t move forward. Thinking I would move up so it didn’t hit the ground, I quickly moved up a little so I could ‘bump’ it. Bad move. I moved too far up and instead of hitting off my wrists as it usually did, the blue and white volleyball hit me on the right side of my dark red head. At first, I honestly wasn’t sure what happened. My team mates were giving me grief because I didn’t hit it, and the fact that I got hit in the head, added injury to insult. I quickly blew it off; something stupid like that didn’t matter anyway. I was definitely reminded of the game for the rest of the day. The collision that involved my head and the ball gave me the craziest headache, and maybe even knocked a little bit of sense into me. Only time will tell.

Whether be out of sheer laziness, a headache, or the fact that it was Friday, I didn’t bring my gym clothes yesterday. I had my shorts and shirt in my gym bag, all ready to be worn come third period. I just happened to ‘accidently’ forget them on the couch. Okay, it was all on purpose, but that gesture made me realize something. I’m a lot better at volleyball when I’m not appropriately dressed for gym. I walked out of the locker room in my super comfy, super fuzzy black sweater and Chiodos blasting in my ears…I played pretty awesome. For some reason, I was actually motivated to play, despite the fact I was just in regular clothes. Who knew that comfortable clothes and loud music could be a motivator for volleyball?

I exited the gym a little late, but it was worth it. My wrists were red under the sleeves of my black sweater and music still going through my green earbuds. It was a good 40 minutes of gym.

My motivation for sports lacks foundation and the breakdown.

Last Day of Freedom

I woke up this morning to the unfamiliar chill coming from my open window. That minute, right then and there, I knew that summer is coming to a close. I stood on my bed and looked out the window. The sky looked grey, the equivalent of a fall morning. Despite the fact that it’s still August. I found myself waking up at 7:15, which is pretty early in my book. The earliest I’ve ever woken up this summer. Not the norm of 10:00, 11:00, or sometimes noon. No sir or madam, not today.

This summer went by too quickly. It strangely didn’t feel like it was going by very fast when it was still in its prime, but now that it’s tapering away, it’s gone by too quickly. I sort of feel like I wasted the summer away alittle bit. Like I did absolutely nothing for almost 2 and a half months. Contrary to my beliefs, this is so not true. I was actually free to do what I wanted, with some minor restrictions. No drinking or drunk tattoos/piercings, not that I would anyway. I’m smarter than that. I actually have some sense. With this freedom, I hung out with my friends, severed relationships with people I’m better off without, went to concerts, found out new things about my friends, broke in my new dark purple bathing suit, expressed a random assortment of my loves, hates and everything in between on this blog of mine you’re currently reading…I’d say I did alot this summer.

Today is the last day of summer break. School starts tomorrow, and I’m not mentally ready. My mind just isn’t motivated like my body is. Sometimes I wish summer didn’t have to be over. Today is my last day of summer freedom.

This year went by too fast.