One Year.

I don't really blog a lot anymore...my life gets a bit chaotic...and yeah, I'll try to do better.

I obviously had to blog today. A year ago, my Nana passed away. I remember a lot of this day. I remember Spanish class and doodling on my paper about getting Jonas tickets. I remember getting the call. I remember a friend being online saying, "Please God, let Ali get good tickets." To which I replied, "Tell him to take care of my Nana too." It was a horrible segue. But that's how I am. I remember crying more the next day when I couldn't get good Jonas seats. I remember bawling in July during A Little Bit Longer and missing her. I remember getting a text on my way to my uncle's for after-funeral services saying we got great seats to Jonas. I remember wearing yellow eyeshadow to the funeral, and it smeared off before the service started. I remember my mom fall apart. I remember thinking about the last time I had been at the funeral home. My sister was pregnant. She now had a year old son. I remember going with her the day before the funeral to see my Nana. So we wouldn't be shocked when we saw her the next day. I can't remember what my Nana looked like. I really can't remember her when she was really sick. I can remember the whole hospital room but not her. I remember thinking my Nana waited to see my brother, his future wife and daughter before passing away. I remember Sam stepping up to the plate and being the amazing friend she's always been. I remember my cryptic messages on facebook I wrote. I remember refusing to take off the picture of me and her at Christmas down. Everyone had pictures from Jonas. I kept hers up. I remember doing stupid stuff during the time she was in the hospital. I remember getting Webkinz for her and my niece. I took the code off my Nana's and made it online. I named it Nana. I remember being in the hospital when Heath Ledger died. I remember getting lottery tickets. I remember somehow functioning during school. I remember missing a lot of classes because of false alarms. I don't remember the last thing I said to her. I don't remember exactly when I last saw her. I think it was the Friday before. I remember being on the phone with my mom, and I was almost nonchalant when my roommate came in and I whispered, my grandmother died. And she gave me a hug. I remember smoking for the first time the night my Nana died.

I wasn't emotional when I started this. Now I am. It's hard to remember all those things.

RIP Nana. 8.26.27 - 3.24.08 I'll always miss you.

Moment of Clarity

I'm pretty sure I won't be able to sleep until I get this off my chest. I also think all the caffeine kinda did me in too. But that is besides the point. I usually hate not being able to fall asleep, because I tend to get really down on myself and really critical. But tonight, I didn't. I made a bunch of promises, that I am really hoping to stick to. And they're not for anyone else, but me. A lot of times I plan to do things for the wrong reason. But I think I'm doing these for the right ones.

A lot of this stuff is kinda hard to admit, but I wanna be honest this time. I'm not gonna be mean, and be childish and get angry and try to seem better than what I am. I'm not gonna pussy-foot around what I've dealt with, and pretend to be so much cooler than I am. Right now, I know what I am, who I am.

I think this whole thing has really started since this year of college. I had a pretty good year. Despite my Nana dying, I found some friendships I thought would last a while. Two good friends at college, and one really great one at home. I was really excited for the summer. And I couldn't really ask for much more out of the summer, to be honest. I got to spend it with the people I enjoyed the most.

And then this year. I don't know, I felt something was different. I had been feeling apart from my two friends at college for a bit, like they had replaced me with someone else. And my normal instinct is to back away. At that time, I was dealing with a ton of stuff. After my Nana died, my mom was hard to deal with. Not in the sense she was mean, it was just she was going through a lot, and I knew my dad didn't like to deal with death. It was kinda up to me to be more mature than I was and put my feelings behind and push forward. It was hard not to focus on depressing things; I'm a person who has always dealt with depression, I think. I mean, I joke it's almost a rite of passage for my family. I've been dealing with depression since 9th grade, and I'm gonna guess I've had small bouts with it before. I kinda put it back to being the youngest of five, and having all four siblings suddenly leave to college and such. You have this loss of identity and a feeling of abondonment. From elementary school to middle school, you could see I was a completely different person.

But that's kinda off topic. Going to University Park, the idea is that in the third year, you get an apartment. I don't know, when I thought I had two close friends I'd stay with. I was pretty wrong. I didn't even know what I fell into. I mean, one summer you're staying at each other's houses and going to concerts together, and the next, you see each other once a week, and it's really pressured. Who wants to be in that? I felt like I had been outgrown. I'm a person who tries really hard in friendships, and maybe I try too hard. I don't know. But I saw a quick desolve when I was told no one wanted to get an apartment with me because I was too "pessimistic." This description of me has probably angered me every week since hearing that. I don't know if that was the best way to describe it, maybe it was. I don't know. I'm not the person who said it. And I can't even really ask them. I haven't had more than maybe two conversations with that person since that.

Suddenly, I went from having a stable and solid friendship to nothing. And I didn't really mind that. I mean, I enjoy being alone in my room, goofing off on the computer. But I don't know, every so often, you really get the feeling that you're missing out on something. I missed going over to other people's rooms and being able to talk. I mean, Jesus, I listened when people had nowhere else to go. I remember when my one friend couldn't stand her mother. I listened completely, because that's what friends do. I didn't ask of anything in return. I really never got the same from that person in return. Maybe that was an inclination that our friendship wasn't too equal.

What I'm getting at here, is that I really haven't healed from that. I've lost a lot of friends over the years, many I called my best friend. But you know, most slowly waned. But this one, it just died. I can't even fake a smile when I see those people in the hallway. To me, it isn't worth it. I mean, I have a class with the one girl. Have we spoken one word to each other since class has started? No. That's sad. I mean, I could sit here all night and vent about how dumbass those people are and this end of the friendship. I see them in my suite, and I think that's what saddens me most. When I can see them in the mirror as I'm washing my hands and they don't even bother to say hi. What the fuck, really.

But onto what I really wanted to get out. For a while, I've been just going, yeah, I'm happy being alone in my room. I mean, yes, that's nice, but it's not all I want. I've been in a rut. And I think the first inclination of me getting out of my rut is finally getting an idea of a novel to write. I'm hopefully finally gonna do it. Not to be published, whatever, but to get this story that has been plagueing my mind for two years down on paper. It's dark, it's gruesome, it's funny, it's everything I want. And I'm excited when I think about it.

I finally want to do things for myself. Not to prove to someone that I'm better off without them. Because well, I am. And I certainly don't need to prove that to them. I can't wait to have this spring break and just get everything to start fresh. Start working on the guitar, get my hair done, start being healthier, everything. I'm not doing it so that I can fit into something. I'm doing it because it's my next natural step. I want to evolve. I'm ready to get over this stupid friendship. I've been bitter about it too long. Who cares? Those people certainly don't. They've moved on, and why shouldn't I?

It's nice when you have this moment where everything fits. I spent a half hour earlier online reading twitter updates from Mitchel Musso's possible girlfriend who tried out for Camp Rock 2, when I realized, why do I care? This girl is annoying. Why am I bothering? It's not going to get me anywhere. I can idolize the actors and actresses and singers that I do idolize all I want. I know I'll never be more than a fan to them. But I'm okay with that. I'm sick of thinking about how I want to be with Joe Jonas and shove it in people's faces. I've spent too much time being bitter and waiting to get revenge and make people mad about what they did to me. I'm done. I want to live for what I have: I want to write, I want to sing and play instruments, I want to go to concerts, I want to be with people who enjoy my presence. I want to take care of a style website I love. That's me. That's always been me. And maybe I've been trying to be someone else, I don't know. But I'm gonna embrace myself this time around. I'm gonna do the stuff that I know that may seem like I'm trying to fit into a standard today, or trying to be cool, but trust me, it's for me. I dont like where I am right now; I feel that I'm finally beginning to understand that maybe I've kept my heads in the clouds too much and gotten too hard on myself because I can't live up to those dreams. I think I clinged to that friendship that hurt so much because it was a sense of normalcy in college life. That's what's supposed to happen. You find your closest friends in college. While I found mine during my college years, they certainly don't go to my college. And they're not normal. They're like me: quiet, yet crazy, sometimes down on themselves, but really, are amazing people, fun, energetic, and they make me smile. I like to be the one they call their best friend. Because I know we're both going in equal. I love being there for them, just like they're there for me. And they're gonna be the ones who comment on this post and say that they love me.

It's nice that it's finally becoming clear.

Music...Just, Music

This blog is like, a week overdue. I mean, I wrote it way too long ago. Anyways, without further ado....

Me and my dad were watching this history of rock and roll, and I mean, I've known these simple facts about me and music, but it really hit me then. You can take away my computer(which has already happened), you can take away my cell phone(close to losing, thank you very much), you can take away my television(also gone as of now), but you cannot take away my ipod, because I will die. In reality, it's just another technological device. But to me, it's practically my gateway to freedom. That's how much I rely on music. I grew up playing music, but I stopped. Seriously, I really have started to think that music will be my future. I mean, of course I write, but I can combine the two. I love all the aspects of music. Writing, playing(yes, I need to learn, but I'm sure I would love it), singing. I'm not sure about performing, but I mean, I ham it up in front of a camera, what's the difference? I'd learn to love it.

I just don't want to be the person who never gave it a shot. I look at the people on my walls, like Demi Lovato, the Beatles, Coldplay, the Jonas Brothers, and they are living this increduous life. I mean, when I think about it, I wonder if I could perform like Kevin, Nick, and Joe. They're running around like crazy. Naturally, I'd have to work out, work on that. But could I do that? Could anyone reading this see me like that? I've always wondered. Really. What do you see me as? Because my late teen crisis has been in full swing for too long. I want something amazing out of life. Could I pull off a musician's life? Can I even pull out a magazine editor out of me(no lie, 13 Going on 30 and Devil Wears Prada made me see magazine editting as even more enticing)? Or am I going to become like Emily Dickinson, and be in solitude for the rest of my life, writing omnious poems that will get recognition after I pass? I truly wonder about these things.

But, back to music; it's become one of my only constants in my life. It's always there, one song somewhere describing my life. I love to put lyrics to coincide with my writing. Avril Lavigne's "Slipped Away" saved me when my Pop-Pop passed. Recently, when I felt so lost(btw, I believe crisis absolved), Patrick Park's "Life's A Song" was my everything. Music is my entirity.

If I ever attempted to write a song, more than one, and go to California, New York, wherever musicians go to get big, I'd be terrified to fail. Too terrified to try. I think that terror is what holds me back in life. I'm so scared to fall, so why bother? I know the ending. There's safety down below. Maybe that's why I want to go into event planning; it's my backup. Less touch and go. With writing and music, there's so much failure. And that scares me. I can't take failure well. I mean I know my voice isn't great(maybe not even good, tell me and I'll shut up, I promise) so would anyone ever want to listen to me?

Ugh, this has become one of my usual "I'm confused as hell, someone help me" blogs. I write too much that no one would want to read. Sorry for putting you through it. I just had to go out and say how much my life clings to music. I'll probably never have a music career. I'll probably never try. I'll probably always be the constant listener. There's always room for appreciation, I guess.
I think the worst part though, is that I can't tell if I'm okay with that or not.

Maybe Life's A Song...

But I'm scared to sing along.


Yep, that's it.Patrick Park has got it right. Life should be this great time. And even when the bad times come, it's still supposed to be okay, because you know it will get right.

At this point, I'm not so sure. I mean, yeah, people go through bad times. But sometimes I wonder, if it ever does get better. And I know this will get depressing. But honestly, I'm sick of hiding myself. Every single person sees me as happy, energetic, obsessive, fine in my own skin. Farthest from the truth. And lately, it really feels like I won't get out. I seem to be falling down this cliff, and I see all these rocks that I could grab onto, but I can't. Or maybe I won't. I'm not the person to go out and be like, look, this is what I want. Do you want to join me? No, I'm the one who has a million wishes, and tells no one it. I never get to the point. I just mumble, "it's nothing" when it really is something. Life is sucking lately, and not because of all the economy shit(which, trust me, is a problem that I hear in my household) but it's a crappy time because I feel like I've lost all grips on my life. I no longer want to do things. I sit in my room, blog stupid things, when really, I'm being eaten inside by myself. I no longer have friends. The two I do still claim as close friends are far away. And anyone that lives close to me that I once considered a friend...well, they're acquaintances. I am awkward around them. I'm no longer myself. I no longer have the desire to go out, anywhere, just to talk to people. It's gone. Because there's no one to go to. I'm falling in this crappy rut at school, and I refused to let people know what was bothering me. I was supposed to be this happy person, and really, I'm miserable. I want to through everything around and cry. And some days, when I think about the future, there's nothing there. I think that's what is scary. There are no plans. I can't see myself in the next few months. I don't see myself living on my own with friends at University Park. The best I see is myself, living in a dorm. Miserable.

And that's where I am right now. Not much change for the better, eh? I can only give people so many hints that I'm losing my mind before it's lost completely.

Oh wait. It already is.

Oh, tell me what good is saying that you're free
In a dark and storming sea
You're chained to your history, you're surely sinking fast
You say that you know that the good Lord's in control
He's gonna bless and keep your tired and oh so restless soul
But at the end of the day when every price has been paid
You're gonna rise and sit beside him on some old seat of gold
And won't you tell me why you live like you're afraid to die
You'll die like you're afraid to go

This Makes Me Want To Vomit

Jump A Jonas


Really, now. That is sick. They are determined to prove the boys have had sex. Do these people have no lives? Honestly. Just leave it the fuck alone, you 50 year old losers. Just because you nailed the first drunk ugly slut because you have no self esteem doesn't mean everyone else has to.

Seriously, I really feel bad for people who have purity rings. It's their vow, and they're condemned because they care enough and are proud enough to show their thoughts. I mean, really. Why does everyone in Hollywood have to be so fucked up? Why can't we believe there are honest and decent people? Really. They exist. I know of some. I do. I happen to be one of them.

I don't feel ashamed to say I'm a virgin, and no one should be. I mean, I think where the Jonas Brothers have issues is they always say, "be pure until marriage" not "remain a virgin until marriage." But what is the big deal? I say that they have never lied about these things, so why should they lie about this? I mean, first off, Kevin had a purity ring before even hitting it big. He was 16. Therefore, if he took it seriously, which I have no doubt he did, he is a virgin. No offense, but he was a nerd at his school and all three have said they did not have many friends. Kevin's relationship with Zoe Meyers can be questionable, but I'm sorry, if he wrote an angry song and they broke up and everything, I would think she'd like to say they've had sex. She's not that famous. She could use the publicity. Except....that's right, they didn't have sex with each other.

What about Joe? He's dated AJ Michalka, Mandy, Taylor Swift, he had to have done it. I'm sorry, but he claims to have been 16 when he had his first kiss. I personally think the boy is not good in relationships. I'm not saying jealousy or anything, more like awkward. I think he was actually raised right and doesn't want to hurt a girl, so he is shy in a relationship. I don't know.

And now Nick. Seriously. The boy just turned 16. He dated Miley for what she says, two years. I mean, she has also pledged abstinence, and I believe them both. Once again, the boy was raised right. As for Miley, ok, so she took some "naughty" pics. People do stupid things after they break up with someone who was their"everything 24/7 for two years." I would do stupid stuff too. You would want to prove you're better off without the person. She wanted to show she was sexy, and could get any boy she wanted, and he should regret his decision.

With Nick dating Selena, I still doubt they have had sex. It's odd for me to talk about two people who I have never met having sex, but this really angered me. I mean, dear gosh, they haven't even said they're dating. Do you honestly think they would have enough time to be able to? These boys are photographed all the time, as with Selena and all the other Disney people. They have no time to themselves. I always wonder how they even take a shower without getting photographed. I mean, they're under the scrunity of the world every second, do you think that even would, if they so desired, attempt to be with a person? I mean, Kevin says it's hard to date people. I get that. Personally? I think if Nick and Selena or Taylor and Joe or Kevin or Danielle are doing anything, it's casual dating. Like, not even considering each other boyfriend/girlfriend. Maybe Kevin and Danielle do. But she's a family friend of the family, so it isn't hard to think she wouldn't be with them a lot.

Seriously, that website and everything may do this in jest, but it's like, we get it, they're pure. Oh my gosh. Stop with the jokes. Sure, you could say them to get a laugh, but they get old. It's not shocking anymore. It's not funny. 104.5 WSNX, go die in a fire. Catch up with Russell Brand, could you? Thanks.

Look Out, I'm Going Serious

So, this recently was bothering me. I was thinking about it. Last year, I lost a bunch of friends because of "college." We stopped talking as much. And yeah, it sucked. No actually, it really sucked. Because it feels like I wasted all that time being friends with those people, and I hate wasting my time on people. Really, I don't care for it. If you don't want to be a real friend, just go the fuck away. I do not need it. I have enough people I actually care about and they actually care about me. Like, it's been two weeks since school started, and you know what? With the people who don't go to my school, I don't feel a strain. Not at all. I feel secure in our friendship. Like, we talk that much, and even when we don't, it's okay. I know that the second we talk again is gonna be cool. Sometimes I think I have a harder time keeping friendships at school. Note to school friends: I tend to stay in my room. Um, come by and drag my ass out please? I have issues.

What I'm getting at is that I realize you know, it wasn't my fault that I lost those friendships. I mean, when I'm friends with someone, just because time goes by shouldn't mean the friendship is gone. Oh my gosh, a week went by! Well, dude, it should be fine. Get over it. I'm the person who does continue to talk with people. But once I get burned out, I'm done.

I really don't know what I got at all with this post, but I felt like saying it. I'm simply not going to make the mistakes I made last year. Even if I shouldn't be blamed.

The people who are my real friends I'm betting are the only ones who read this. And to that, I hope you know you are loved. :)

Johnny Depp Is Dead

So, not really. But some days it feels like that. This Rolling Stone is the last magazine I bought my Nana. It's odd, instead of feeling like my Nana is gone, I feel like her idol is gone. Like, I do not know what I am gonna do once he has a new movie coming out. Like, it'll be really weird. I don't think I can see any new movie. Like, there was talk of a fourth Pirates movie. And that scared me. It really did. I went, how can they go on when my Nana isn't here? It didn't make sense to me. I mean, obviously, in celebrity world it does, but to me, it didn't. Like, it really makes no sense. It really doesn't. I don't think I'll watch another Johnny Depp movie for a while. It'll be a while til I heal.

Sorry had to get that out.

Fo' Serious, Fools

I'm tired. Maybe that's why I'm in the mood to be slightly serious. Well, all I have to say, this is not directed to the people you think it's directed to. I just feel a little down, and sometimes I love people, but when things crack, they crack, and I crack. Some things happen for a reason, and the littlest things let people go off. And off they go. It hurts me, it hurts others, and I just think that it's meaningless. I have anger issues, I know, but when I get mad, I try to just punch a pillow. Or scream. I'm good at screaming. But it makes me want to scream til my lungs are destroyed when some things happen. Things that I'm not a part of and I put myself in. 

People say I should be a psychiatrist, and you know what? I should. I am fucking awesome at figuring people out. Except I just can't figure myself out...

Two Months.

I know, it's a serious blog, but whatever. I have the intention of three funny ones right after this. I just felt like I had to talk about this.
I can't believe it's been two months. Or should I say only two months. I feel like it has been so much longer, a century perhaps. Like, I feel my whole life is so different from those weeks beforehand. Like, for the fact that the first time I saw the Jonas Brothers, she was around. If someone had told me I had eleven days left, I don't exactly know what I would do. I could say I would be absolutely devestated, but after so long in the hospital with no end in sight, I think I would've been happy. I would've seen her more. I really don't remember the last words I said to her, the last day I even saw her. I think it was the Friday before. The next day was my nephew's birthday party. I couldn't hang out with friends because that night I was baking, and then party the whole next day. It was Easter weekend. My parents and me did the usual: pick me up at Hazy, then go to the hospital. The rest is really blurry. I guess I blocked out what happened then because I can remember baking later that night, and even watching the new episode of Hannah Montana. Uncle Earl was on it. I took pictures of my cupcakes. I remember a lot of stuff after I saw her with such detail. Maybe because it was something different; not the same thing I saw every time I came in.
Either way, I'm glad I didn't see her the day she went away. I mean, I wouldn't want to deal with that. My mother saw her and got to unknowingly say her final goodbyes. She waited until my brother came home that weekend to see her one last time. I think she knew. She waited until my nephew hit the big year old, before she left.
It really doesn't feel like just two months. I mean, I can look back on my journal and see my tear-stained pages of almost four months ago when they said it was the end. I had lost it, done things I regret, and she pulled through. Maybe that was kind of when she left for me. The rest of the time was just me getting to see her, value her, and not take advantage, or dread going in to see her. I didn't get to see her too much this last year because of college, since every Monday my mom and me would go in. We would just watch tv. I really didn't know that I would be begging for those simpler times so quickly.
I think my family has done the most changing after all this. I may be wrong; I don't know. I feel like I've grown. It gets hard to deal with my mom some days, and I know she's gone through a lot, but sometimes she can't always be fair. But I think I just have to deal. To let her deal. It'll probably be years before she doesn't have to listen to the answering machine or feel the need to buy something for her every day. I have those needs, but I guess I was already detached from the situation before that I had come to terms with it. I had an extra two months to understand that life isn't fair, but it does make sense. Eventually I'll find a sense in all this. And I'm always hoping she is just hanging around up there, playing Bingo, and making sure we all don't lose our minds.

A Small, No, Gigantic Restrospect.

Now, before I go into randomly exquisite detail of the Q Concert, today and yesterday I stumbled across some thoughts. I rarely get serious in here (I simply want to entertain, not complain from a high horse) so bear with me as I go off into a semi-meaningless tirade.

First off, I started thinking about how I had seen Kevin Jonas and basically screamed orgasmically for him from behind a gate. Two things hit me there: first, I had embarrassed myself in front of my “future husband” (more on that later); and secondly, why did that even merit a scream such as what I did? Truth is, it didn’t. Nothing from behind that gate was truly appropriate. After all, I don’t know Kevin Jonas personally. And then it hit me: Why the Jonas Brothers? Why any of those celebrities? If we were indeed created equal, why do we place people on a pedestal? After all, they are just people. What makes them so special? The money. The more money, the more popular, the better.

And then you see things in magazines like, “Celebrities: They’re just like us.” First off, no, they aren’t. And second, even the magazine writers are on a different plateau than the readers. I don’t know how life picks out a celebrity, but it clearly missed me. I know I’ll never be famous or marry Kevin Jonas, and I’ll rest on the age old thought, “A girl can dream.” Yes, a girl can dream. But even with dreams, you get a sense of disappointment. Any person who says they hole-heartedly knew something they dreamt about wasn’t going to happen lied. Because there always is that miniscule fraction of hope. Anything is possible.

To me, I feel something unknown separates us “normal folks” from the destined famous. I don’t have a clue what that separation is, but there is one. I mean, I know halfway in my heart that all those dreams I meticulously plan out won’t come true. And the other half keeps dreaming. I mean, I’ll probably end up maybe graduating college on time, and living in a guest room at my sister’s, and working at the Morning Call. Even that has a large sense of dreaming in it. More appropriately, I’ll graduate whenever and waste my degree working as a Superfresh cashier, believing that the story I’m writing then is the story that’s going to change the world. Everyone that reads this is probably going to say I’m being way too cynical. That may be true. After all, I am only 18 years old, and I should have the world at my feet, yet I’ve already resorted to a painfully dull future. Or people just refuse to believe the truth. Because to me, I bet people who are destined to be something big never get this down on reality. They just know it’s going to happen. Maybe that’s the separation.

After I saw Kevin, I texted the big screen there and got to see “Ali got to see her future husband Kevin up close!” scroll across the bottom of the giant screen in hopes of making at least one person out there jealous. And well, I had lied at least twice in just that one sentence. Was twenty feet and behind a gate “up close”? And really, is he my future husband? After all, I saw at least 100 marriage proposals to the Jonas Brothers on the screen that night. Me and 10 million other girls want to marry Kevin Jonas (There’s probably 20 million apiece for Nick and Joe) and who will be the victor? None of them. It’ll probably be some temp at a recording studio who, ten years down the road, rarely listened to the Jonas Brothers. Because, seriously, put yourself in their shoes: would you want to spend the rest of your life with someone who idolized you, and had your picture cover their room, and basically love you because you’re famous? No. In real life, kids, that’s called a stalker. And name one happy person who married their stalker. Yeah, I thought so.

And the truly romantics will point out too semi-glimmering examples (shining is just going too far): Katie Holmes and that waitress that’s with George Clooney. First, Katie Holmes: she had dreamed of marrying Tom Cruise as a little girl. Okay, that’s all well and good, but she is still a celebrity in her own right. And no one knows except her if she’s truly happy. Now, the waitress: just a normal girl who won George Clooney’s heart (for now). Alright, have you seen her? Fucking gorgeous. She models now. Ok, yeah, she was destined to serve cocktails. And I was destined to walk on Pluto. Plus, she probably lived some awesomely charmed life. Probably had it made in the shade. Not all celebrities did, but a damn good amount did.

I guess this all rolls down to escapism. We like to leave our mundane worlds to dream of an awesome one. When the going gets tough, we like to escape to our fake world, the celebrity world. I could use that as my excuse for what I did when Heath Ledger died. My Nana (God rest her soul, as well as Heath’s) was lying in a hospital bed, beginning her decline. I reveled in CNN, picking up every detail about Ledger to tell the set of people at bedside when they came out. I simply needed an escape for my mind. But what was everyone else’s excuse? I got at least ten texts that day from different people, saying, “Did you hear about Heath Ledger?” It was like a game that day: who could tell someone that didn’t know. I was excited when I found someone who hadn’t heard. Instead of feeling bad that a beloved actor had passed before his time, I joined the telling game. And plus, was Heath even worth it? Did he deserve 10 magazine covers just because a lot of people knew him? My Nana was known by many, and she didn’t get a cover, and I probably won’t when I die (never say never). Heath was just one of those lucky, special guys who happened to be a celebrity at the time of his death. Many famous people who die don’t get covers because no one cares about them anymore. Old news. There’s definitely a difference because a celebrity and being famous.

Now I know I won’t follow what I preach. I’ve accepted that. I won’t stop obsessing over the Jonas Brothers for a while (until another band takes my attention), and I most certainly won’t stop putting celebrities on a pedestal. Humans innately do it. We can’t not look up and see something above us, whether a person or a power. I guess through al of this, I see, once again, my chances at obtaining my dreams are slim to none. But I can still dream. I just have to be able to pull my head out of the clouds when needed. To quote an odd source for something like this, but definitely not for me, “Life’s what you make it, so let’s make it rock.” Ms. Montana has got it. Make your life as best as you can. Yet I add something: at the end of the day, make sure you’re happy.

Thus ends my rant. Onto funnier, shorter, and more hypocritical thoughts. :)