Tumblr and iPhone Apps

Why, hello there.

I'm back from the living dead (aka not posting.) However, I did really like my last post, so I kind of let it hang there for a while on my wall.

Anyways!

Right now I am at a friends house. Her name is Siri. She's tumblring some pictures. Her tumblr name is iriszilla. :D

Tumblr.

You're kind of like the middle child in the family of Facebook's friend's coworker's ex. I have no idea what to think about you. You're an idea that popped into my head once, but I kind of rejected. You're something that sounds pretty awesome but not quite awesome enough for me to care enough to join.

For one, you're pretty weird. I mean, tumblr? Besides not capitalizing your name, (a pet peeve of mine,) your name doesn't even make sense. Facebook is a book of faces, as in profile pictures. Google+ is Google, + you. Pinterest is picture interest. But tumblr... as far as I know, you're not a washing machine company.

So, anyways.

Elektra Out.

Awkward Moments

Hi!

I'm sitting here watching old Glee episodes. Not much has happened since I last posted, but I did randomly pack up and leave for San Francisco for no apparent reason with my family.

I love San Francisco! I love the city life, the fashion -- everything about the city is just so... fabulous.

I also had a bunch of play rehearsals. It's getting serious!

So, that's what's happened lately.

Oh, wait --

I almost forgot!

I recently discovered a new album: Retro Punch, an amazing album by Billy Van.

I want to write a review for 2 of the songs -- I really suggest checking the album out.

1. Retro Punch

It's named after the album, so you'd think it'd be a generic song -- but think again! This song is amazing! It has the most satisfying breakdown you'll hear in a dubstep song almost ever.

2. Cloudwalker

Somehow Billy Van manages to create a catchy tune out of random jumbles of words mashed up together. The dubstep that surrounds the vocals is serene -- if that's even possible.

So all in all -- kudos to Billy Van for this amazing album.

So, anyways...

Elektra Out.

No Excuse

Hey.

So it's been a while now, and so naturally a lot of stuff happened, but first off, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I have neglected my blog for a while now. But never fear!

Anyways, I auditioned for the musical (:D) and got... a lead! The musical that we're doing is Miss Saigon. I got the part of the (male) Engineer, a half French, Half Vietnamese "sleazy but likable" villain.

Also, we had to write sonnets in Humanities (I don't want to post 2 poems in one post,) but we are working on Sestinas, so here's my half finished version of one (OK, maybe it sucks, but bear with me here.)

I can not, will not, get up, no matter how much heart;

My eyes are boulders, heavy as rock – what a metaphor.

My dreams are, however, light as a feather.

I shrug my covers back on, showering me in a sea of maroon.

However, I and my mother both know that the smell is the key;

The smell of yellow eggs, blueberries, that surely will stain.

I see my dad walk into my room, see apron patched with stains.

I appreciate how he gives everything so much heart.

But today I am closing the lock. I am too tired to deal with such fancies as keys.

There it is again – another metaphor.

Beneath my covers, I glance upwards. I have always hated that color, maroon;

But I have always liked the idea of the filling of feathers.

Sleep flutters, scattered, blurring my vision with it’s milky feathers,

Almost like a blemish on my previous perfect vision – a stain.

I remember my old dream, something about forgotten keys…

Huh. Forgotten. That’s what my dream is now. I settle down into my sea of maroon.

Alas – what should I do? My mind tells me to wake up, yet saving the shattered 

      remnants of my dreams is the decision of my heart.

Yet this time there is no is – no clear possibility, no metaphor.

Only a lock and an unwanted key.

And I just made something really uneventful (waking up in the morning) incredibly dramatic.

Well hey, that's poetry for you... huh? Yay? No? OK.

So, anyways...

Elektra Out.