holidays

hearing: paul whiteman – happy feet | mood: stuffed!

this friday i toured the international academy of design and technology in orlando. it’s a three-year tech school, and they seemed to like me a lot. they “got to know you” a little, in which they asked you some questions about yourself. it was very personable, and i kind of liked it. loyel was our counselor’s name, and he asked,

“so in eight years… where do you see yourself?”
“done with school, hopefully, settled into a career.”
“what kind of car would you drive?”
“1955 t-bird. black.”
“what kind of house?”
“victorian. with reproduction period furnishings.”
“any pets?
“fennec fox”
“what about your yard?”
“daisies.”

they do that and write it down, and when you finish the program, they haul it back out and say “does this look more realistic now?” they write down what you have currently, and i drive a 1989 minivan whose muffler fell off the other night, i don’t have a house, and don’t even have a yard. but then again, i’m not sure a technical school is right for me. their BFA looks good, but i’m not sure what kind of job i can get with a BFA. i’m going to talk to my dad’s best friend john, because he does the exact thing i want to do when i start a career. i want to eventually get into project management. but enough about that.

thanksgiving was at my house this year. there were a lot of people crammed into a small space, feasting on far too much food. i would have taken more pictures, but i doubt anyone cares about my relatives or anything i did.

i’m hanging with the grand to the m-a’s.

my grandmother(left one) was very talkative tonight. i think she’s a bit lonely. she works two hours away, and she drives there every day down 95. she eats by herself every night, and has her martinis, and drives home. she doesn’t see many other people besides my aunt and litte cousin. so i let her talk and all, and enjoyed hearing what she had to say. she kept saying how i was pretty and needed to go to new york to model for vogue. she talked about her days when she was into show biz in the forties and fifties in miami beach. y’know, when it was ritz and glitz. she was an entertainer, and my grandfather played jazz piano.

she looked at my christmas list and seemed surprised i asked for music and clothing from when she was born. i think she was sort of excited, actually. i explained it’s a way of escape for me. to imagine and dream i was much more respected and was living in an exciting era. i’m tired of being referred to as bitch and slut and ho. i’m tired of everything being cranked out of today’s time being worthless – the music, television shows, clothing, dance. i believe there is no culture today, at least respectable culture, unless someone can convince me otherwise. i told her i hated my town and knew there was something else out there for me.

she said i didn’t belong in merritt island, or florida, for that matter. it just made me feel worse, knowing that it’ll be years and years before i climb my way out of this disney-saturated place. but at the same time, she made it sound so easy. there’s an upcoming play at the cocoa village playhouse, and she said she’d take me and buy me a new white fur hat. now i have to go shopping for something decent. i’m going to go to that new mall with matty tomorrow. the one in orlando with saks and tiffany’s and neiman marcus and all the other lovely stores i really can’t afford to shop at, literally. but maybe one or two purchases…



off the subject, my parrot even got a thanksgiving turkey bone! yeah, parrots eat meat too. your finger is next.

well, we all know that football is far superior on thanksgiving than anything else. i played some ragtime music on the piano, and it felt like everybody was like “c’mon hurry up” so they could turn on the half-time show featuring leann wombat or whoever it was. whatever. i’ll just go back to playing the piano by myself. i hate performing anyways. i’ve always messed up really bad whenever i had to do concerts when i had lessons, so it’s a pretty big anxiety for me. my fingers get stiff and it’s harder to play happy music when you’re all cold and clammy. maybe that’s why it didn’t sound that great. maybe one day i’ll post a crappy mp3 of some stuff i play.

lately, i’m just feeling down after updating. i think it’s because it gives me time to think. and i’m not sure it’s such a good idea. i want to run away to chicago or new york, but i’m thorouhgly convinced it’ll be the death of me one day.

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