January 31, 2009


I failed my drivers test, again. 15 minutes after leaving the testing sight it clicked in my mind. I had gotten the whole thing mixed up and had tried to line my car up with the back cones instead of the front ones. I think the big lesson learned from this is that I'm not good under pressure.

I guess I won't become a surgeon, no big loss. Third times a charm.

January 25, 2009


I beleive I am a Bokonist, which upsets me, not because I've spent the last 17 years of my life as a Jew, but because it means I subscribe to a religion made up by Kurt Vonnegut in order to make fun of religions, and this makes me feel as if my spirituality is a joke.

If you have no read Cat's Cradle, and to be honest, neither have I besides the first 50 pages so far, then I will explain Bokonism for you how I understand it: it is a religion based on the acceptance of the untrue.

The quote found in the begining of the book reads as follows:

Live by the foma* that make you brave and kind and he
althy and happy.

*harmless untruths

And honestly, this is how I view religion and Judaism. It makes me happy, I can't rationalize it, I don't beleive it half the time, and yet, part of me knows or wants to know, there is something greater out there, so I give into this "harmless untruth." I don't know if there is God or not, I like to think there is, but if not (which is probobly more likely) then it's just, harmless.

This realization makes me further realize I really want a tattoo.

I have always loved the Hamsa, a symbol of the hand of God which is meant to ward off evil. I think they're beautiful and I would love to have one permanently on my body, as a reminder that these harmless untruths or truths or whatever are ok.

January 24, 2009

Conformity and Uniformity

I find myself in a fashion rut. As I grow older I find myself more and more open to more "out there" clothes. I've always loved fashion, ever since I sat in the audience of the Philadelphia Ballet and admired the sparkling costumes, but I've rarely had the courage to try out my own fantastical costume.

Recently the Academy has transitioned from a dress code to a loose uniform in hopes of elevating their obnoxious prep school status. This change may seem oppressive to some, but it has allowed me too escape many of the pressures in high school. I have slowly been riding myself of all Hollister and Abercrombie since the switch two years ago, and more and more daring fashion choices have been making their way into my closet. This might be a sign of maturing, but it also might be a respo
nse to the freedom of two wardrobes.

My school's uniform is fairly relaxed, it allows students to pick out their own skirts and pants as well as sweaters and sweatshirts, as long as they are within school approved colors - grey, black, navy, khaki, and red - and a polo from lands end, with the school logo embroidered above the heart. I have matched high waisted skirts and long cardigans with over the knee socks and penny loafers in order to mix up my school look.

(shoes: www.piperlime.com sweater & skirt: www.urbanoutfitters.com, socks: www.sockdreams.com)

Inexplicably, my school uniform has been influencing my weekend wardrobe. Whenever I'm out shopping I find myself drawn to colors like grey, black, and navy blue: school colors. Just as I began branching out I find myself sinking into another slump.

January 20, 2009

First Term President, Second Semester Senior

Today was my first day as a "second semester senior." The S.S.S. is a rare breed, a high school student who has found themselves in the last half of their last year of high school. The S.S.S. possesses all the ideals and charisma of youth much every other high school student, as well as immaturity, but these traits, which are usually kept in check by the rigor of schoolwork and the threat of college admissions, are suddenly released as first semester grades are recorded.

There is a certain code of rules that applies to the Second Semester Senior, and the Second Semester Senior alone:

The S.S.S. does not do homework.
The S.S.S. attends class at their own discretion.
The S.S.S. does not study.
The S.S.S. does not stress out about C's.
The S.S.S. does not mind showing up to school late.
The S.S.S. understands that class time can be used for valuable socializing.
The S.S.S. enjoys spending time with their friends.
The S.S.S. treats teachers as equals, not superiors
The S.S.S. enjoys a good party
The S.S.S. likes to talk about their college, a lot.

Yes, the life of the Second Semester Senior is awesome.

Though I would like to think the world revolves around me, and that Obama's swearing into office coincided with the beginning of my second semester as a sign that I truly have hope for the upcoming months, I know that no matter what Obama would become president. Although that might sound depressing, it is truly empowering. I am so thrilled to have a president like Barack Obama in charge of my country as I transition into my adult life. No matter what I have going on in my life, Obama will still be in control, making the big decisions. I have so much hope and faith for this president, its unbelievable. 

As a S.S.S. I had the luxury of leaving school in order to attend the inauguration, this was not a libety the school gave, but one the S.S.S. assumes.

A group of friends and I drove into town to view the inauguration on the TV inside the café which we frequent after school. Café Tea, as it is called, is a lovely little space that offers a variety of exotic loose leaf teas. In a previous life the café was a dance studio where I took ballet after school, and now its where me and a bunch of people hang out after school.

As the students of the Academy filtered into Café Tea the owner, Sharon, welcomed us. "You're just in time." And so we sat, mesmerized by  Barack Obama. In the next four years Obama will work to prove himself as a worthy president of the United States of America, and me and my fellow classmates will transition from Second Semester Seniors, to college freshmen and beyond. We will also hope to prove ourselves, to discover all that we become, and hopefully achieve great things.

Today has been a very good day, a day of hope, and possibility.

January 15, 2009

A Year to Remember

I feel as if I have grown a lot in the past year. 17 feels entirely different than 16, but at the same time, I have the overwhelming feeling that I'm in exactly the same place as I was a year ago.

My school's winter dance is this saturday, and I'm attending with the same date as I attended last year. He's a friend, but will never be anything more (despite what he might want). Also, I was surprised to be instant messaged by the guy I was dating last winter, the guy I wanted to go to the winter semiformal with last year, the guy who it just didn't work out with for some reason.

While I've become much more confident, self assured, and independent in the past year, this deja vu makes me feel like I haven't grown at all.

How have you changed in the past year? How have you stayed the same?

January 13, 2009

Valediction and Urination

My brother Jake moved out yesterday. He had been living at home since he graduated college last spring, but there really wasn't any work for him around here, especially after the election (he was a political science major) so he's decided to move to Albany where he worked as a Senior and where his friends live.

While me and my mom are ok with Jake leaving us, Gus, the cat, is not as thrilled. Despite being and incredibly dumb cat Gus is able to sense when people are leaving. While Jake was leaving Gus decided to stage his own protest in the form of peeing on some of Jakes stuff. It's his own little way of saying, "fuck you."

This is not the first time Gus has objected in such a manner. While I was packing up a bag to go to my dads apartment for the weekend Gus urinated on a pile of tote bags I keep in the corner of my room.

It's disgusting, but at least I know he cares.

When Jake was leaving for the first time for summer camp I had my own sort of demonstration. Though I was only about 5 years old I was reserved enough to know not to pee on peoples things. Instead I taped all of my stuffed animals to the floor so they would not leave me too.

While I'm excited for Jake to finally begin his "adult life" it's hard to think that he will never live here again. The house I live in now is the only house I've ever lived in. Last winter my father moved out, and now my brother is leaving. In August I will be going to college and shortly after my mom will move to Santa Fe. Each of us is beginning a new life, but unlike most, we won't have any safety net to return to. In a way I will be sort of "homeless."

January 11, 2009

I am supposed to be studying.

It is both my grandfather and my brother's birthdays today. They are here at my dads apartment watching the football game.

My grandfather is going blind so he wears these binocular glasses.

I really like them.

January 10, 2009

Down the Rabbit Hole

Just a little doodle I did this afternoon. I'm really fond of it and might turn it into something more.

Hats, Health, Hard Cash and other things that don't begin with H

Midterms are coming up next week, which means I've been delaying studying as long as possible. AP Art history is completely overwhelming, and while I like the idea of the class, the class itself is incredibly difficult and even tedious at times.

I've also been sick all week. I've felt horrible: very tiered, weak, and irritable. I've been trying to cut out meat where I can, but as someone who occasionally suffers from low blood sugar this might not be something I can actually do. We learned about the effects of meat on the environment, so I thought that I would do my part and just not eat it where I could, but I really do need the protein.

I'm also feeling very stressed out about money. While my housing and meals at home are paid for, my parents give me a certain amount of money to cover everything else in a sort of annual allowance. I just bought two very expensive things: a winter coat and a dress for my school's semiformal. I also went outlet shopping with my mom and bought some shoes and bras. While coat and bras were necessities the dress and shoes were not, and I feel bad spending so much money on things I don't necessarily need. I did get some money for Chanukah, but I still feel guilty spending so much.

My mom doesn't have any money anymore, as a working artist, and a divorcee, so I feel especially bad spending money when she can't. I love everything I bought and I'll wear it all multiple times, I just feel guilty. After I pay for the alterations for the dress I'm not going to buy anything else until I need spring clothing, and after i turn 18 in March I'm going to get a job so that I don't feel as badly for splurging on myself.

So, on a semi related note, my dad gave me a hat (which means it was free!). I really like it but I'm not sure where I can wear it. I think it looks good, but it's not necessarily a style thats fashionable at the moment, not that that matters, but still.

So, I guess this is sort of my first fashion post? So, expect more and better posts in the future

January 8, 2009


In short, I failed my driving test today.  After failing the permit exam 3 times, and taking a year+ to actually schedule my driving test it can be established that driving is not a priority to me. I'm actually not a bad driver, it's just not something I enjoy, at times I even find it stressful. My brother likes to blame my parents, and their divorce, and he likes to blame me, because I like to quite things that I have to work at to become good at. I don't blame anyone. I just try to explain to people that I never need to drive.

I don't need to drive because I plan to live in a city for the rest of my life. I'm going to Boston University where I will not be able to have a car, and after that I will either stay in Boston or move to New York.

I don't need to drive because my friends drive me anywhere I need to go. When we make plans, "Do you need a ride?" is asked right after "Where are we going" and "What time?" It's become a given in the year and a half that I will need a ride because I will never drive.

Despite those two reasons I've listed above people still like to ask me, "Why don't you drive?" or "When do you plan on driving?" It's like there's something abnormal about me. There is nothing wrong with me for not driving. Honesty, I think there is something wrong with everyone else? What kind of over privileged world do we live in where every teenager drives? I hate to pull out the "children in africa" argument, but seriously, in most parts of the world, or America, lots of people don't drive or get cars.

I don't understand what kind of response people want when they ask me about my driving. "Oh, I don't drive because I'm blind in my right eye and am legally not allowed." "I don't drive because my right foot is gimp and cannot control the petals." "I don't drive because I'm against it and will promptly begin to walk or ride my bike everywhere I go."

I don't drive because I don't, and now I don't drive because I failed the test.

On a completely separate note...

I'm thinking of doing fashion and makeup posts so if anyone is interested in that I'd love a comment of support.

Actually... you have no reason to support that because none of you have seen how I dress, so...

Coming Soon (Maybe): A Fashion Post!

January 7, 2009

Love and Marriage

This is one of my favorite things I've written.

Portrait of my Cat as my Husband

If Gus and I were to get married, we would shit in a box and drink out of the toilet. We would never have to wear clothes. We wouldn’t be cold though, because we could always turn the heat up. We would sit by the vents all day, licking ourselves clean. We would be very clean. If I was married to Gus I would never have to cook. Our people would bring us food. We would eat lots of chicken flavored Iams. If I was married to Gus we would never go outside. We’d have no need to go outside. We would chase flies around the living room. Sometimes we would chase imaginary flies. Gus and I would sleep like spoons in my bed. Gus and I do that anyway, but if we were married, it would be ok. Gus and I would not have any children though. Gus is neutered. If I was married to Gus we would spend a lot of time with his brother, Z. I would not let Z sit on my lap though. If I was a married women, that would be improper. Gus and I would not need money. We would not need to buy anything, so we would not need to work. We would not do anything really. Sometimes people would visit us, and we would sit on their laps and hope they would pet us. We would sit on people especially when they didn’t want us to. Gus and I would be very happy.

January 6, 2009

The Awakening

I'm supposed to be rewriting a paper for my english class. I got a C on the original, so now I have to redo it. I had two weeks of winter break, plus the months after I got the paper, but now I'm doing it, the night before. I stayed home all day today because I had a fever, but now it's almost 12:00 and I'm still trying to put it off by writing this blog.

The worst part is that the paper is on a book that pretty much is my life. It's so weird to read a book and be like "I know these people, this is my life." I felt this way when I read A Catcher in the Rye, my brother is so much like Holden, and now I feel this way about The Awakening.

The protagonist in The Awakening is the wife to some guy with a high paying job. They summer in the right places, they have the right children, and Edna, the protagonists, attends to all her social duties. The thing is, she's not happy. She thought this stuff would make her happy, but it hasn't. She realizes she doesn't want to be a trophy wife, she wants to be an individual and an artist.

This, in short, is my mother. My parents are currently going through a divorce. My dad is a successful real estate attorney and my mother has been a stay at home mom. She's sacrificed a lot for me and my brother, especially because my brother had a lot of issues growing up (think Holden Caulfeild). At 50 she's realized that it's not worth it anymore. Her financial security isn't worth the country club conformity, even if that's what she thought she wanted. In the fall, when I start at Boston University, my mom will move to Santa Fe where she can pursue her art and finally be the independent person she's always wanted to be.

This is what I want to write my essay about. I don't want to write textual evidence because I have real evidence. I can say that social pressures fuck you up because I see it, ever day. And yes, I see my mothers almost naive attempts to explain herself as an individual, an artist, and I cringe whenever she drunkenly tells me, "never to depend on a man" but I know its true, to a degree.

So, Mrs. Graffam, my life is my fucking analytical essay, and yeah, maybe I deserve a C, because honestly, it's kind of shitty at the moment.

To anyone who reads this, a question

Have you ever read a book, seen a movie, or watched a show that you really connected to?

January 5, 2009

To Mia

I worked at a pre-school two summers ago. I was a junior counselor in a bunk of 3 year olds. It's funny, people always think toddlers are so different then us, but I saw the same mean girl dynamics, the same kids in need, that I see every day in High School. One of the little girls I worked with inspired this letter.


Dear Mia,

Even at three years old I can't help but think you have everything figured out. Maybe it's something subtle, like you're big blue eyes  or small pout that contribute to this perception of you, but I know it's your more obvious characteristic that gives you this air of maturity; you're muteness.

In the six weeks I knew you I never heard you utter one word. At such a young age you were able to figure out that talk is cheap, no one will listen to you anyway, especially when you can't read yet.

Still, I can't help but hypothesize that your inability to talk comes from a different places, not your intelligence, but somewhere else that I just don't understand. I remember the first day of camp when you failed to ask a counselor to take you to the bathroom. Your Gap Kids shorts were soaked through with urine and there was a puddle on the floor. I want you to know that even though you might not have anything to say now you can't keep on pissing yourself for the rest of your life.

Maybe at three you don't have anything t0 say, but one day, hopefully, you will. I hope you are able to overcome whatever keeps you from speaking. My only advice to you is once you do find your voice, use it. Too many people are speaking, with nothing to say.