cuz i am hanging on every word you say and/ even if you don't wanna speak tonight/that's alright, alright with me/cuz i want nothing more than/to sit outside heaven's door/and listen to you breathing/that's where i wanna be...

i love lifehouse.

oh where oh where have my links gone? if they don't show up by tomorrow morning i'm gonna start throwing things. heavy, pointed things.

im trying to build my voice up to make it sound and flow better. i really want a part in the senior musical. partly because i just think it would be such a cool thing to do and partly because i'm kinda shy when it comes to singing and performing in front of others and i want to prove to myself that i can do it.

off to strawberry fields tomorrow morning. i can barely wait.

Nightswimming - by REM

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it's so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water's edge.
The moon is low tonight.

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
replaced by everyday.

Nightswimming, remembering that night.
September's coming soon.
I'm pining for the moon.
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?
That bright, tight forever drum
could not describe nightswimming.

You, I thought I knew you.
You I cannot judge.
You, I thought you knew me,
this one laughing quietly underneath my breath.
Nightswimming.

The photograph reflects,
every streetlight a reminder.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night.

...I miss it.

Beatles song of the moment: For you, blue. for all of its twanginess and awkward bass effects. for all of its uniqueness. this is why i love the beatles so much.

i woke up today rather late. it's 2:30 already and i've got work coming out of ears that still needs to be done. on monday i wont have to worry about applications anymore, praise heaven.

did i ever mention that i got Pearl Harbor on dvd? now i can watch josh whenever i feel the desire to. it's so fabu ;)

*laughs* Miniclip.com, baby...*snickers*

after just five minutes, ive changed my mind and my blog is the same as its always been. I dunno about you, but soft grey, robin's egg blue, and white is just so much prettier than changing pukey-green into even more pukey pumpkin-orange *cringes*

"tis time for a change," says alex.

after much personal debate, i've changed the layout, or "template", should i say, of this blog. this particular nifty little number changes colors as you read and you can choose which font and font size you want to view it in. it's all very avante garde in website technology, i suppose, you making all of the adjustments instead of the webmaster.

anyway, enough of the ramble and nincompoop babbling about nothing.

time for me to start my AP bio outline of chapter 17. From Gene to Protein...can't you just read my excitement? (for all of the dense people, yes, I'm being sarcastic).

but that comes after the nap i'm about to take

Stupid things people are saying to brush George's death off like its nothing, which, in turn, is ticking me off greatly:
- "George was the 'weakest link' of the Beatles." Pshaw. So maybe through your eyes he wasn't Paul or John or even Ringo, but i'm pretty sure if there was ever a "weakest link" to the group, the band and the record company would've kicked em out and replaced them in no time. the beatles were precious during their time of glory. they were the golden children. they had more money than god. they made their record company more money than it could ever dream of. any weak spot in the group would have been xnayed immediately in fear of the band's disintegration.

-"He was too quiet, he didn't do anything." So maybe he didn't make smart-ass, snide comments like john, clown around as much as ringo, or was as pretty as paul was, but surprise surprise, he *did* write songs all by his little lonesome. Something, Here Comes the Sun, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, I Need You... I need not mention more. Sure, 95% of the songs had the Lennon/McCartney stamp on them, but they were a group, and despite who was mentioned as being the songwriters for the songs, I'm damn well sure that everyone put in their own two cents one way or another. george and ringo wouldn't just play any song, no questions asked, that john and paul handed to them if they didn't like it. and have you even heard george's solo material? its just as brilliant as anything the beatles ever wrote together. to say that george wasn't as good of a songwriter as john and paul is the comment of someone who's completely ignorant of anything george put out musically after the Breakup. and, yes, I capitalized that for a reason; its not a typo

to me, george is the beatle who wasn't caught up in the glitz and glamour of fame. he didnt look at it through paul's blurry, rose-tinted lens, or wasn't fond enough of it to playfully, but jokingly, insult it like john did. ringo just played it off as one big, giant joke, laughing at everything and anything. beatlemania wasnt the best years of george's life, methinks, and when you watch interviews a la post-beatle Break-up, you can hear tones of bitterness and annoyance laced through his words. it was the same with john, but he was more blunt with it. he actually called them "bastards" to the press' face and publicly addressed his feelings about paul's jealousy of yoko. george was more subtle about it, not saying anything direct, but you can just tell by the way his lips tightened the second "beatlemania" comes out of the interviewers mouth and how his voice takes on a slightly different tone when he talks about how he felt "suppressed" by john and paul, how it wasn't as magical for him as one would think. George was the ironist beatle, the disillusioned beatle, the Zac Hanson beatle, if you will. he saw all the flaws and superficiality that came with fame. That's why he was so "quiet", so "mysterious." Because if he was anything but, he'd be faking it.

Losing him means losing another piece of that story, that big glorious story of four kids who started playing guitars on the top deck of a bus in a dirty little industrial town in the north of England, kids who weren't rich or from happy, stable families. Kids who had absentee fathers and mothers who died young and plenty of piss and vinegar between them. They were thugs in leather jackets who played dingy little clubs and popped uppers to stay awake through their late-night sets. Kids with hairdo's that any conservative would label as blasphemous. Kids who switched into suits for the mums while their daughters tore their hair out and shrieked until they were hoarse. Kids who, after it was said and done, after the messy break-up and the in-fighting and the neat collection of number one singles, really, truly did change the world in profound ways.

In the Recorded History of the Universe, Mozart will be important. Beethoven will be important. John D. Rockefeller will be important. Abe Lincoln, JFK, FDR, even icons like Madonna and Micheal Jackson. Cole Porter and Gershwin and Rogers and Hammerstein will be important. And the Beatles will be important. They will be the fingerprint of us, the thing that kids in cyberclassrooms centuries from now will study to figure out the what and how of us, the epitome of pop culture during the twentieth century.

something like that just doesn't come every day. something like that doesn't have a weakest link. it can't afford to.