Shut up stars, you don't KNOW ME

So, this website claims to list some of the things that your astrological sign hates. I of course had to look. That kind of stuff makes me really curious and half the time I believe it, so I searched for Pisces on the list. Here's what it said for me. Laugh all you want...because I did.

Places that are too hot
This is, surprisingly, true. I cannot stand it if it is over 75 degrees outside and you can pretty much consider anything dealing with humidity a huge out for me. Having grown up in Northern California, the heat has been present, but easily avoidable. Being on the coast has always added a nice ocean breeze to the mix. However this doesn't mean I totally loathe it; my family and I regularly visit Death Valley and the National Parks of Southern California. Plus, in 10th grade, I did an exchange trip with a school in Tahiti and had an amazing time. Let's put it this way: I don't love it. I won't search it out. But to experience amazing things, some times you have to face what you hate. It's that simple.

Losing their sunglasses
What sunglasses? What is this? LA? Italy in every Hollywood movie? Does the whole effing world wear sunglasses?

Polluted water
Well, gee, yeah. I do hate it. You got me. I'm amazed and totally convinced. But doesn't EVERYONE? Oh no wait, I heard the sign Sagittarius is really into polluted water. This definitely won't be on their list. (The only reason this is here is because Pisces is a water sign - nice try trying to give this some credibility/believability jack ass.)

People who laugh too loud
Depends. What do we mean by "people"? Do we mean the people sitting at the table next to me in the restaurant having a private conversation way too loudly? Are they, at the same time, slurping down bowl after bowl of Miso soup and eating plate after plate of sushi (bastards. I could never afford that much sushi)? Because I do hate them. Or do you mean my room mate Ellen, whose loud boisterous laugh brings me eons of joy? Even at 1am I love to hear it wake me from my slumber.

People who walk away from arguments
That's just because they're PUSSSIES and know that I WILL WIN IF THEY STAY.

Alcoholics
Alright, problems with this statement:
1) I would be a hypocrite (half kidding).
2) I would hate all my friends (3/4 kidding).
3) I would hate almost everyone my age (not kidding).
4) We all have our vices and obsessions. Who am I to judge?

Being denied access to grandchildren
Oh God. Oh. My. God. Ever since my daughter put them in private school and moved out to the suburbs, I never get to see them. I miss them. I sent them checks for their birthday and never got a thank you letter. It is killing me inside. No but really...that would suck. If I had any.

Having to wear prescription glasses
Yo, what UP, reppin' 20/20 vision RIGHT HERE BITCHEZZZZZ.

Cars that waste energy
Once again...most. people. do. And if they don't, it's not because they're a Virgo or something. It's because they're from the Midwest. Just kidding. Sorry Karina.

Slow drivers
Well I don't drive, but I hate slow walkers. Does that count? When I have somewhere to be and the person in front of me is taking their sweet time, I want to punch them in the back of the head. Tourists make this especially hard for me. Actually, even when I don't have anywhere to be, I still get pissed off. I hate being in transit. In the words of Tom Wolfe, "The intrepid traveler takes one step and he is there!"

Why I write lists

I write a lot of lists. Lists of foreign countries I have been to, long books I’ve read, bands I’ve seen, and famous people I’ve met. They make me look like an asshole.

But I don’t write these lists to be an asshole. It definitely appears to be that way to the uneducated eye, but if you knew me, if you understood how my brain works and how it thinks, you would understand the lists.

Let’s take the concert lists for an example, as I recently updated one. Keeping track of every concert I attend and then laying them all out in numerous fashions is not me bragging to the world of my achievements. I don’t mean to say “Look how many indie bands I have seen!” The pages of concert listings are for me and me only, and if I happen to bring it up in conversation, it is to reassure myself that they are important in some way, or helpful. After I’ve written that first list, I can’t help but continue the list, number it out, add to it, rearrange it. I keep changing it.

More lists have appeared from the first two official lists (“concerts I’ve been to” and “total bands seen live”). Now I list all the bands I’ve seen individually, so I now have an exact figure of bands I have seen (147). I also broke down the number of concerts I have seen by year, then by each month within the year. It’s obsessive and sick in a way. And I know this. But if I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t know that the two months in which I have seen the most concerts so far have been April of 2008 and June of 2009. I also wouldn’t know that from 2005 to 2006, my yearly concert attendance jumped from 8 to 15. And that in 2008 it went up to 18. I wouldn’t know that I attended the exact same number of concerts in 2007 that I did in 2006. Also, the time when I saw the most concerts in a row (8) was April and May of 2008, which was, coincidentally, just before my French Baccalaureate exams.

But what’s the use for all of this? Who cares? Do I care? I don’t even know. The more lists I make about this, the more I fascinate myself. After they’re written, all I do with them is add on and occasionally open them to scroll through 13 or 14 times in one sitting. Scrolling through the lists is a wonderful feeling for me. But what the hell? Is that all they do?

This brings me to my point.

I have a habit of counting things down. Even if I am enjoying myself immensely, I count down to the minute at which something will end. I check the time and estimate how much longer I have in a moment or event. I check the calendar for how many more days in a trip, in a month. I keep a countdown on my Google home page to whatever big event I can latch onto. I am always asking the duration of something, which makes me sound rude. I am not trying to be rude. I just need to know so my brain can start the countdown. No matter what I do, I am counting down. When I was depressed, I used to countdown the hours till 11pm (when I would go to sleep) so I would know how much longer till I had gotten through another day.

And the thing is, I have always hated math. But I do not hate numbers. The only time I hate numbers is when I am using them against me; like I do with, yes, counting down. I wish I could stop counting down completely. I wish I cold enjoy time without wondering when something is going to end. Why do I wonder at all when I am having so much fun? It’s not that I am wishing for it to end. I’m just wondering when it will end. And this distracts me and pulls me out of the moment and I can’t reenter it for a while.

Then people think I’m getting upset. I am not. I am trying to stop counting.

These lists I make, whether they be for concerts I’ve attended, museums I’ve been to, airlines I’ve traveled on, or movies I have hated…they are my way of trying to satiate my craving for numbers. If I make enough lists, and reread them often enough, I don’t count time down. But when I stop the lists, the counting down begins.

Just a month ago I was on a trip with two close friends. I found myself counting the hours down till we had to go back to school. It was one of the most enjoyable weekends of my life and they were two of my favorite people on earth and we were in one of my favorite cities in the world and all I could do was count hours. One night, in my friend’s attic bedroom we were staying in, I tried writing a list of the things we had done that weekend so far, but it did not satisfy my brain.

To this day I remember that weekend with extreme fondness and I had an amazing time. I definitely had fun, don’t doubt that. But I was counting.

And that’s why I need the lists.
I really need them.
I don’t care if you know I’ve been to 12 different countries or not. Yeah, I would love to talk about my time there, but the number isn’t what matters. Remember this: if I say it, I am trying to validate myself with numbers.

It has gotten to the point that next term at school, I will be hanging a list on my wall by my bed. Any list, I just need one to look at. Then I will be going to the school pysch. I have fucking had it with missing the moment because of a clock.

5 very embarassing things

Once again, I open my innermost secrets to all of you. Okay, so they're not life changing, scarring, or ruining, and you probably couldn't blackmail me with them, but they're pretty bad. Somehow though, sharing them makes me a little more self aware and happy. I guess in a way I am proud of the terrible things I love/do. Which sounds a lot more insinuating than I mean it to be. Whatever. Just read on. I hate introductions.

1) I have cried during a lot of Ugly Betty episodes

Fact. A sad, but true, fact. Maybe it's because I seem to watch them all during some pivotal turning point in my life, snuggled up in bed at 1am. Circumstances have a lot to do with emotions. But really, if I am alone and it's quiet, I probably will cry at something in an episode. They just know how to tug on your heartstrings! Betty misses her dad's birthday because of work, and he at it he has a heart attack, and she IGNORES HER SISTER'S CALLS as their father is rushed to the hospital. Then Elliott Smith starts playing as the montage of sad faces begins. Oh god, here it goes. And her old flame Henry is back for the 17th time and it's all "ooh emotions I thought I'd forgotten" etc etc. And they kiss it's messy, and "I miss you", and "No we can't!" It goes on and on until I can barely contain myself.

2) I enjoy Enya's music

And what are you going to do about it? I practically grew up on Enya (along with a lot of Beatles, Simon & Garfunkel, and classical msuic), so she is imbedded in my brain whether I like it or not (especially the "Sail away!" part of one of her songs). Luckily, I do like it. When I am stressed out, too tired to move, or just feeling depressed, a good round of "Watermark" or "A Day Without Rain" really puts me in a good place. It's soothing, it's quiet, and her voice is very beautiful. Hate all you want; bitch has got TALENT. Now inventing her own language, that's a whole 'nother Enya I'd rather not go into...

3) Some of my favorite books are the "Shopaholic" series

I started reading the first one after going "Junky Book Shopping" with my mom for our summer road trip to Palm Springs. When you're sitting by a pool in 110 degree weather, the last thing you want to do is think too hard over a huge volume of Descartes' theorems on space and time. Anyway, I picked this one out. The description hooked me: "Becky has a fabulous flat in London's trendiest neighborhood, a troupe of glamorous socialite friends, and a closet brimming with the season's must-haves. The only trouble is that she can't actually afford it–not any of it." Oh hell yes. Independent girl facing life issues in a big city. That's intriguing. I bought it, read it, and suddenly...I needed more. I read the entire series and even bought the new one when it came out. I found myself actually growing attached to Becky, her friends, her life...what can I say? She's adorable. And I like having something easy to read now and then; we can't all be the next scholar of French philosophers! Although I do love me some Voltaire and Rousseau...

4) When it comes to Rupert Grint, it's like I'm 13 all over again

Not even joking. I think some of my friends are starting to get a little ashamed of going to see the Harry Potter movies with me because I fawn over him like a teenage girl. And there is a very deep buried part of me that still believes we would be great together; if we met, and bychance got to spend some time together, I swear to god it would go very well. And I am a sucker for that red hair. Who isn't? Look at him! Even his onscreen character, Ron Weasley, is appealing to me. But I guess it's time to snap back to reality. I have to approach things from a serious standpoint. Which means I should start using that scientifically proven correct six degrees of seperation test to see how I can meet him...

5) I used to run about 5 or 6 fansites
And believe me, they were all for very embarrassing, stupid things. One was for Ron Weasley, another for Pippin from Lord of the Rings, and a third for Joel Madden from Good Charlotte. I swear to God, if you laugh, I will haunt you. I am opening up my soul to you by telling you these things. I loved making websites and would use basically any excuse to make one. Fansites seemed perfect! I put up loads of useless information that didn't do anything to advance humanity or create a better world at all! Their birthdays, favorite colors, and pets. I created galleries of images just of them! What better way to fill up the internet than with pictures of a little Hobbit and wizard boy? I can't think of any. Unless it's for pictures of a tattooed pop punk band lead singer with a whiney voice. Oh god, kill me.

Add to the list the fact that I rant on here to basically no one. No one that I'm aware of anyway. Until next time, keep it real like I just did. The world doesn't need any more lies.