...

Me: DUDE. My friend Jacob ((A baritone, for all ye who do not know)) and Charlie ((A tenor, friend of Eri's)) -must- get together and sing this song. Au Fond Du Temple Saint. It's so perrrdy

Eri: xD a million yaoi fangirls all over the world just wrote Charlie x Jacob slash fics.

Me: WHAAAAT! O.O; *dies*


XDDD 'nuff said.

HIGHLY//AMUSED

Alias: ELLE//fin.

WHAT THE FUCK.

EDIT: Okay. I say this once, and only once.

I confronted Maestro. He said he was sorry for the misundertanding, but he was talking about the adult opera company, of which my two voice teachers are members.

I listened to her yesterday, and Dolores has a -really- good voice. Most likely, they knew that and weren't judging just on the audition day.

I was wrong.

And I did get a solo, in a different song.

So I'm sorry, but I made a mistake.

I'm keeping the rest of this below just to state my ambition.

EDIT 2: PUBLISH, DAMN YOU!
_________________________________________________

Maybe this is the fate's way of telling me I'm meant to be something like an accountant or a banker or work at McDonalds. That my love of music is nothing but that:

An untalented love.

Someday, I want to be famous. I want to be a face that people know, that people recognize. I don't want what happened to my mother to happen to me.

My mother was a prima ballerina in her teenage dance company and a Rockette, who went to the school in NY for professional children through all of high school, and then she kept getting turned down from dance companies because of racial quotas (this was at the height of affirmative action time, in the seventies).

So my mom, being put down every time, pushed herself as hard as she could, trying to become so good that the dance companies -couldn't- refuse her.

And then she got hurt during a fucking audition- busted her knee. The dance company thought she was amazing and was going to put her in a lead role, but she had to get surgery on her knee, thus ending her dance career.

I think God or whatever diety is trying to tell us that the O'Connells are not meant for fame.

You know what, God/Diety?

FUCK YOU.

I'm gonna be famous. I don't care what you do- I'm gonna go on to do something with music and you're not going to fucking stop me. I'm going to be adored. I'm going to be extraordinairy. I'm going to be amazing somehow.

How's that for you?

You want to stop me? Smote me. I'm not going to give up until I mother-fucking get to the top of the ladder.

And then I'm going to pay all my mom's medical bills. And buy my daddy a boat like he's always wanted. And give mom the money to start up her own dance studio.

And start my own school-

My own school for students that were like me.

That are outcasts from the 'popular' crowd. That are artists, that express themselves.

The ones that feel like they have nowhere to turn, that they're always going to be second-best.

No. They won't be second best. They won't fucking go through what I go through now.

I won't let them.

DEPRESSED//FUCKINGPISSED

Alias: Elle//fin.

Breathe... ever so soft...

Yeah. Listening to NoFX. XD Love it man, love it.

Leave It Alone, is the name of the song.

The Bell Song from Lakmé was on before that. XD I have such a fucking strange playlist. Opera and then punky-rock. And up after this and Perfect Government (another NoFX song) is Barbossa is Hungry (Klaus Badelt, from PoTC). And then He's A Pirate and Fog Bound, two more Klaus Badelt. And then Vesti La Guibba. From Pagliacci.

Yeah, I have a lot of different tastes. Fun stuff, it is.

I figured I should update my blog. I did a lot of template editing yesterday, and then gave up and put it back to the way it originally was, man. Cause I'm weird.

But anyway.

Just been thinking a lot about life and stuff lately.

Like, what's the purpose?

I'm sure every teen goes through this at one point.

But also, I think I'm going fucking insane. Like, I think too deeply about some things. I've been finding myself spelling words correctly and then looking at them and thinking they're incorrect, even ones that I've known since, like, first grade. I've always been a good speller. And now, it takes me two minutes to spell purpose. I was like... purpous *backspace backspace* purpus? No... *backspace backspace* And eventually I got purpose. Yay.

And musical pitches. I think I'm going nuts and having trouble, like, distinguishing between them.

Anyway.

I'm so fucking SICK of Michael Moore. Everybody's been praising him how good his movie is. I've only seen the previews and I can tell you this:

It's fucking edited and clipped to -only- show what he wants people to see. That's why I'm not going to see it. Or maybe I should, just to see how much bullshit it really is.

Grah. He pisses me off. I watch things like the Oscars to get away from stuff like politics. And he has to bring it up. If I wanted something fucking political, I'd go turn on CNN or something.

Damn you, Michael Moore. People wonder why I'm freaking nuts around political stuff.

NEWSFLASH: IT'S PEOPLE LIKE YOU, YOU DUMBASS, MOORE.

GOING//FUCKING CRAZY

Alias: Elle//fin.

The Land of Make Believe!

Ahah. Yes. Opera camp todayyyy. Blergh, I was sick this morning cause Mom gave me a perscription antacid. But I had really bad heartburn and the doctor said it was okay when we called her. But now I find I am allergic to Zantac, which is good to know.

Anyway.

Yeah, we have solo auditions for the Showcase at the end of the summer tomorrow. At least, for the Giovenette peice, the Peasant Song. I'm trying out for Zerlina's solo. Cause it's fun. But I won't be picked. Cause my voice sucks.

It does, too.

You know, I look at all these teenagers that have extraordinairy shit happen to them. Like Charlie. Charlie was blessed with a good voice.

I wasn't, damnit.

And even if I was, my stupid choir teacher refuses to give solos because they're 'unfair'.

Anyway. And then there's people who get famous just for their looks, no talent.

Britney Spears, being an example.

Yeah. My mum isn't helping, either. I keep trying to get realized or something, see if I do have any talent. But she's like 'lose fifty pounds and I'll get you an agent' and I'm like 'WTF!?! You don't even want to get me a gym membership and now you want me to lose fifty pounds?'

My mother is stuuuupid.

So yeah.

I see all these extraordinairy things happen to people. Like Hillary Duff, like Charlotte Church, like JoJo, people like that.

And I'm like, WTF?! I'm not supposed to be stuck in a fucking small town that's not even on the map! I'm supposed to be out there, with the world!

I'm supposed to be extraordinairy! Idolized!

-Special-!

But no, damnit. The world looks at me and tells me I'm not good enough.

Never have been. Always have been at the very most second best at everything.

-Everything-.

Damnit.

Anyway.

Whee, conversation.

Puck Eats You: *prod*
Faerieblue Satu: ::is prodded::
Puck Eats You: Hio
Faerieblue Satu: hoi.
Faerieblue Satu: . . . no.
Faerieblue Satu: hi. xD
Puck Eats You: How are oyu?
Puck Eats You: 00; You*
Faerieblue Satu: I is okay.
Faerieblue Satu: xD
Faerieblue Satu: ::works her powers of confusion on Elle::
Puck Eats You: Typos galore. XD *uses magical art of hormones on Eri*
Faerieblue Satu: Eri. . . that seems so weird to me. xD
Faerieblue Satu: and what the fuck are you doing to my hormones!?
Puck Eats You: XD You'll never know! BWAHAHHA!
Puck Eats You: I might just blog this. XD
Faerieblue Satu: xD
Puck Eats You: Who is Sparkle, out of curiosity?
Faerieblue Satu: my fish.
Puck Eats You: Dude- I need you and your skills to make my blog look cool. Because it's boring and default and I have NO HTML skizzles. Aww, I'm sorry.
Faerieblue Satu: xD mine is actually just an ancient blogger template.
Puck Eats You: ... I need to smack you.
Faerieblue Satu: ^.^
Puck Eats You: Do you know anyone with HTML skills?
Faerieblue Satu: um, not really.
Puck Eats You: ..DAMN YOU! *shakes fist*

PISSED//RAGING

Alias: Elle//fin.

Lalala...

Okay, so I'm not listening to any music, technically. But I keep humming/singing/hearing in my head He's a Pirate from Klaus Badelt.

Good stuff, it is. XD

I took a quiz once about Jack Sparrow. It was, like, which one of his speeches are you?

I got 'You have got to get yourself a girl, mate. ...Your not an eunuch, are you?' Much to my amusement. Appearently I'm horny and I think everyone else is that way, or should be.

Go figure, eh? XD

Anyway, much love for Erin's new RP character. Yay Nariko! He's staticky. Like Ellen.

Oh, and a random quote from Raphie:

"Let me go, and give me back my damn testosterone!"

Ahah. I also love Puck's control over hormones, damnit.



... if you're not me or haven't RPed with me, ignore that entire last section.

Charlie, I love your haiku. And you're right, all haikus must involve cherry blossoms. XD


Much to my own amusement, I actually logged onto Blogger for the sake of just Blogging... something. I didn't care what, really. I felt like updating you all on my life. My boring life, but my life nonetheless.

Got into an argument with mum this morning, over the computer.

Hmph. No chocolate covered strawberries for her today. I was going to make them, too.

Ha.

So there.

I have discovered something about myself recently, actually.

I tend to be irritating when I angst. Like, I'll snap at people. Or just wallow in self pity. Anway.


<33333333 you all.

Alias: Elle//fin.