Leave Gaga Alone (And Britney Too:))

As all of us know by now through the news that they like to say "spreads like wildfire", Lady Gaga has recently stepped it up yet another notch and given us quite the "meaty surprise."
Of course PETA got on her case. Of course Ellen gave her a bikini made of vegatables to make a humorous point. And, of course we are all asking, "What the hell was she thinking?!"
Why does this come as a surprise? What else would we expect from her?
In case you haven't already figured this out, this is WHO SHE IS.
Why would we want just another pop star who doesn' quite know who they are so they go on with they're lives trying on new hats and never being truely happy with who they are?
So she wore a dress made out of meat? There are far more important things to complain about. And isn't it amazing that theres a human being that can get away beautifully with wearing nothing but meat and diamonds?? Isn't amazing that she can keep doing what shes doing and not let comments like "you're a tranny" and "you are insane" beat you down (but instead just feed your fire?) And there is no point in arguing that it takes pure talent to pull off posing for a men's magazine as a man and make it not look like a joke.
How many women do YOU know who are able to do that?
What the world needs to understand about Lady GaGa is that she is NEVER going to change because of what people tell her is wrong, weird, or crude. She has shown us that you can be yourself in anyway you want. All it takes is courage and the ability to love yourself for who you are when no one does. She isn't just a shallow celebrity whose name will fade. Has the world not seen yet that she is and will be a legend like the ones we know? (i.e. David Bowie, Michael Jackson, Cher, Madonna etc.)
You don't have to like her music, her fashion, or her lifestyle but, you must know that what she does is real. That is the only way to describe what she does and what she is. She does what few artists dream of creating but never take action in doing so. She has a depth in her music that not every artist can claim. She has devoted to living for her fans, her inspirations, and herself.
She gave voice to those, who because of their circumstances and time of life, didn't have one. (Look up the lyrics to her song "Dance In The Dark")
She doesn't live by what humans have had ingrained in them over millions of years as, "normal." What is normal anyways? It's everyday life choices we make because weve been told that's the way its done and theres no other way. Why cant we do it another way?
She is a raw example if this. She is definately not what humans consider to be normal. But, humans aren't "normal." We are constantly making mistakes, doing "weird" things and getting ridiculed by people who are in the same boat. Why can't we just accept that that's the way it is? Isn't it more "normal" to do what feels right and not judge others on what that is to them?
So, heres to a beautiful human being with two hearts. :) Lady Gaga

Listen To My Whining!!

As my few followers may know, I am now in Gorizia, Italy, where I will stay for the remainder of my school year and for a bit of next summer.
My town is very small and most of the buildings are very old and there is an old Roman ruin near my town. The beach is about an hour away in a town called Grado. I stayed there on my family's boat for a night but, it didn't exactly go over well due to the fact that I was already feeling sick when I woke up the next morning and they were frying fish for their friends and we had mysteriously moved from the dock to the middle of the sea. Half awake, I met their friends and then sat on the front of the boat when suddenly a wave of sickness over came me and I promptly vomited.
Since then, I haven't felt altogether there...mentally and physically... I am extremely homesick and I want to get over it as soon as possible...
On my way here, I arrived at the SLC airport all ready to leave when, after an hour of tom-foolery, they canceled my flight. Needless to say, I was upset... although, it was nice to see some of my family again before I left. When I finally arrived in Chicago, I had a lay over for 3 hours in which I made some pretty funny observances. First, there was the little german boy. He was accompanied by his sweaty elephant of a father and his mother who was sporting a fine mustache indeed. He was one of those children who are probably younger than they seem because of his portly figure. He had an very unfortunate haircut where his head was buzzed except for his bangs which were kept long in the front. They had given him a huge bag of Airheads which he was obviously devouring lovingly because his mouth and teeth were colored blue. Why wouldn't you give a child a bag of Airheads before a 14 hour flight?? It's a perfect way to let the person sitting in front of you know your there by consistently kicking the back of the seat.
I am disoriented to say the least. Being jet lagged mixed with gut wrenching homesickness is enough to make you want to die. I'm trying so hard to learn Italian but you start to hate it after a while when all you hear is noise noise noise noise!!!! It feels so incredibly good to write in English and not have to dumb it down. I am trying but, I can only handle so much of my host grandma following me around and talking to me in Italian thinking I know what she's babbling about.
So far, I have no friends at my school. My only friend is the maid at my house named Jeanny. She's very sweet, but probably thinks i'm so weird because I follow her around, make her listen to my sob stories about being homesick and I eat in the kitchen with her instead of eating in the dining room. It just feels weird to be waited on ALL the time. For once in my life I want to do dishes, laundry and other chores. Looks like all my complaining back home backfired on me.
Right now, i'm going to meet Jeanny's sister because my host parents went to a dinner. I think Jeanny knows I need to get out of the house.
More later....

Vinco

vincere
v. win, defeat, vanquish, beat, overcome, conquer, overpower; score; control oneself

The above is entirely self explanatory. It is obviously a definition of an Italian verb. It also has to do with the name of a new Italian restaurant (verbal detour: this is the first time I have ever spelled restaurant right the first time.) in town. They call themselves "Vinto: Casual Italian." First of all; what does "casual Italian" imply? Can you arrive in sweat pants and hair done up in the well known greasy knot? And if that is what it implies, does that mean the attire can be bought at the D.I., but, the food is a piece of salad and maybe some prosciutto for seventeen dollars? With a grape for dessert if you're lucky??

I'll have you know I did find out answers to these questions. My first experience in the land of said "fancy-casualty" was more of an observance than anything. I realized that I liked the general atmosphere of the restaurant, I appreciated that they could make a small space feel quite spacious, and especially that the prices were fair for the quality, authenticity, amount and taste of food that was served. The portions were moderately sized while at the same time satisfying my piggy appetite. And to answer the final question, yes, you can wear the grease knot and sweat pants without being scoffed at.

Out of all this information I gathered, there was still something I couldn't put my little, scrawny finger on...it was my second experience at Vinto when I was personally enlightened. It happened when I was about to put a piece of Caesar salad in my mouth. (this is no ordinary Sizzler salad bar Caesar mind you; it was heavenly) As the piece of green, dressing drenched goodness was about to be shoved into my pie hole, someone above me politely asked if I would like some freshly ground pepper on that. This someone was really just a someone, it was a Dolce & Gabbana model, a Greek god if you will. With salad hanging out of my mouth I mumbled something that sounded like a "No, thank you." and looked around me to find more of these D&G models hurrying around in aprons. Why hadn't I noticed this before?? I then began wondering why they lure greasy haired, sweat pants fools like me in with the idea of "casual Italian" just to crush your dreams with a waiter that could very well be on an ad for Burberry and you know for a fact they are gay??

Then another thought came to my head just in time for the serving of the most delicious basil gelato I have ever witnessed in my short life. The thought came just as another one of these so called waiters came to serve the heaven food. I was immediately overcome in a fit of pathetic giggling at the thought of these downright smolderingly attractive men ascending to our table to serve me the choicest of desserts. So, it's safe to say my experience at Vinto was a good one (that's an understatement) and I will definitely be going back for more...basil gelato. I must now control myself :) I would recommend it to anyone and for any occasion. ...I shouldn't blog at 1:30 a.m. anymore...but if not now, then when???

On a lighter and more fashionable note, couldn't you just look at these forever??? Don't I kind of look like Emma Watson?? I can envision myself as being her sometimes...especially in these pictures...with these boys...

Daaaanng. I would imagine having him for a brother would be the most difficult thing in the world...

Do you think peanuts are called PEAnuts because the shell acts as a wannabe pea pod and peanuts wish they were peas?

Wellllll it seems it's high time I take this forsaken blog off the dusty, forgotten shelf, blow off the dust like the old, lost, artifact it has now become and get it's cogs turning once more. I've got a hungry black cat with tuna breath sitting on the chair next to me, begging me to let him cheat on his diet, some triumphant, get-back-on-the-horse-and-kick-some- blogging ass (if I may be so bold as to make up and use that term) music, a brother telling me I look haggard (i.e. sweaty, baggy-eyed, and tired-this could be thought of as encouragement to do something productive if you're a glass-half-full type of person...in that case stop reading this blog) and an outstanding case of insomnia.
Why yes, of course I have to wake up at 7 am tomorrow. That would be why I'm writing on this blog now and procrastinating laying in bed for two more hours in almost complete darkness (my neighbors must go through light bulbs like water) and listen to my guinea pig drink a whole bottle of water with such vigor you would think he was trying to watch his figure by using the poor, green bottle as a punching bag.
You know you're life is full and rich when you spend your time (two birds in one hour to be exact) giving dead birds proper burials in your backyard. Now, it's tricky business burying birds is. Depending on the location of the bird and the strength of your stomach and wits, the steps in transporting the bird to its grave can vary. In some cases, you must get two sturdy sticks, (this depends on the size of the bird but usually they are small enough)and fashion them in a chopstick like manner to get the bird from place to place. This sounds barbaric, but, rest assured that the bird's spirit is rooting for you to take it away from the maggot infested sidewalk or gutter where it left the world of earth-birdies and wouldn't want you to give it a proper burial at the expense of your health.
Now, you must find a nice place in nearby garden or dirt pile and dig with what you have. Be creative. For example: I was walking home from the D.I. after buying an assortment of spoons and forks and happened upon a deceased winged friend. I was then able to let it R.I.P. If worse comes to worse, use your hands. It won't kill you, but, if it did, you'd be the one rotting on the sidewalk eh??
Lastly, find a nice pretty rock to mark its resting place and say something nice in parting like, "You were the best party-animal-bird I knew." (you don't actually know these specific characteristics, but, it livens things up as much as things can be livened up at funerals) or, "You were the most devoted Lady GaGa fan I knew."
Thus, the art of bird funerals.

Gun Metal Glitter

I realize my blog is probably the most boring thing on the face of the universe (besides waiting in line at the DMV for 3 hrs. only to fail your permit test twice.)but I get so lazy and my mind likes to wander from the subject that I initially had in mind to write about so the upkeep of a blog keeps escaping me.
Lately I have been engulfing my mind in the world of new music (new to me anyways) and old favorites. Aside from listening to Lady Gaga's new album for about the fiftieth time over, I have taken to becoming obsessed with music with an 80's synth pop theme. The band that should be coming to your mind right now is (drum roll please...) SHINY TOY GUNS. If you have not yet heard this fantastic band, I would suggest scrolling down the page to my playlist where there are many examples in song of the said music.
Not only do they sport this type of music, they will mix in a modern twist of futuristic sounds that can be likened to that of a robot's voice. They encompass lyrics that, on the surface sound like non-sense, but truly have a deeper meaning. But even when the lyrics have apparent and obvious meaning, there is often a background beat and rhythm that makes you want to jump on a neon rocket ship, have a space-age dance party, and never look back. Something about their music takes you to a glittery, mysterious, cloudy place you've never been and makes you never want to come back to earth.
On top of all of that, they have some songs that give you the sense for a brief moment that you are the coolest thing that graced the earth and to be honest; pretty bad-ass. (for a personal example: I would now like to dye my hair streaks of purple, pierce my lip and get an industrial on my ear.) Then, of course, if you're like me the song ends and you remember how lame you are and that you were probably listening to this song with your headphones on in the grocery store and singing along in a voice that most likely sounded to everyone in ear shot like a whale stuck in a jar. You also may have had your eyes closed...not so bad-ass anymore right?
So, check 'em out, download them, plug yourself in, get to the nearest Smith's and get your new persona on!

Too Bad I Never Took The Time To Even Learn Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on the Violin

Enjoy!!!!! Europeans are so smart....

This one is INSANE


In Her Eyes


I can Walk On Water I Can Fly

There's tons more too!!!! Look up 333lucas333 on youtube!!!!

A Yellow Pants Catastrophe!

Who's fantastic idea is stop light day anyways?
Today started at 6 am as usual, but it was one of those days when you don't want to get out of bed so much that its physically impossible. I'll say, it isn't natural to begin with to get up at 6 am 5 days a week when you need as much sleep as an infant. Anyhow, after hitting the snooze 6 times at 5 minute intervals, i finally got out of bed at...(do the math yourself) I then did as much as I could with the rat-nest of my hair and the day's fun began. The fun began when i found a white hair....it sounds so stupid writing this and I must say now that I think of it, I'm quite proud of myself for conjuring up a white hair over night! Maybe I am turning into Dumbledore after all! I tried to brush it off but there was no kind of luck but bad today for me and it was just the beginning.
It was time to get dressed then so I went to put on the outfit I had planned in my head last night. This ended in a whirlwind of clothes in my room from my angry search for a measly pair of leggings. I finally found them after tearing apart the contents of my dresser, (and thoroughly frightening my guinea pig) only to find that my nit-pickyness wouldn't agree with the outfit I thought would look good. I caved in and gave up on looking like a girl and put on a huge, dirty sweatshirt and the now forbidden yellow pants. I made it to first period on a stomach of half a french toast and sweat drenched state of being (thanks to my daily exercise of the B to D floor).
English was mostly normal except that instead of being educated on the English language, we had a thorough lecture on the Russian Revolution. I cant say I disliked the change in routine. The bell rang and I stepped out into the hall on my way to second period (walking through the halls is quite like swimming upstream in a river of gorillas and donkeys at my school mind you, and especially dangerous for a little shrimp like me) when I hear loud and clear, "OOOHHH SOMEONE HAS A CRUSH!" I stopped dead in my tracks and remembered the horrifying thing I purposely forgot. Stoplight day. I hadn't intended on participating in spirit week's tom foolery, yet today I had. Let me now explain the idea of Stoplight day. You wear red to say that you are taken and you have a happy yet complicated high school relationship and you are considered cool by those around you. Wear green to say you are in the search of that perfect match in your life, but really you're just single and feel sorry for yourself. And the dreaded yellow; you have a crush, BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO SAY WHO! It was just my luck to wear scream-at-you-in-your-face-you'd-be-blind-not-to-notice yellow pants. At this point I'm just going to have to laugh at what a plane wreck of a day I had. These kinds of days are for a good laugh because they probably mean you havent had a good one in a while. Better luck tomorrow might mean a boring day so let's just hope for.....EXCITING! I wasn't cut out for high school, so in other words, I wasn't cut out to be a puzzle piece and I'm glad!
-oLivE <(^^,)> Live Long and Prosper
P.S.!!!! NEW LIGHTS ALBUM (The Listening) AND BASSHUNTER ALBUM (Every Morning)