Do I Seem Bulletproof?

Unfortunately I can't embed this video "by request", so here is the link to the video I wanted to post here. Watch and then come back here to read my fabulous post. Please.

La Roux-Bulletproof

I dig this song and the video is pretty neat too. I like the relatable message of the song and the lack of sex appeal she has. The boyishness demonstrates how this song is liked because of the music, not the sexy. Tres 80's. With hair like that, how can you not like her? Plus, and this is the main reason I decided to post this, don't you think she sort of resembles the guy who plays Finn on Glee? I think they look like they could be siblings. Also not just looks, but expressions, like, mannerisms. They move the same. Maybe I'm just so desperate to relate real life to Glee I will grasp at straws, but I like to think I'm not. Shh.

I wonder what La Roux's hair looks like wet.

Yes? No? Am I out to lunch?

And ha, ha! I just read a comment on that video and it is almost exactly like mine.

While searching photos of Cory Monteith the suggested search was "cory monteith shirtless". Stay classy.

I'm procrastinating. What else is new? Deadlines to meet and time to spare, you'd think I would be able to get some work done, but nope. Not Callie. Callie is good at avoiding things.

Oh ha, ha! Did I mention the cast party for Beauty and the Beast on here? I don't believe I did. Well, normally I would provide some photos for illustration but I unfortunately didn't bring my camera to that fateful night. Anyway, most people were wearing white shirts that we all decided we would write memories of the musical on during the party, myself included, and I wrote "CALLIE LIKES PARTY" on everybody. Ha ha ha! Capital letters, no punctuation. Yes, cast mates, that is how you shall forever remember Callie McIntosh. Intoxication levels shall not be mentioned. Needless to say, I quite enjoyed that party.

Ugh. I guess I'd better end this post and do some dastardly deeds. By dastardly deeds I mean not this, which is unfortunate. Compared to what I was just doing, this is hugely entertaining.

Well, I hope you ghosts had an alright Sunday. I say alright only because my own was so uninteresting and continues to be, if you can't tell. It must be uninteresting enough for me to have to write about how uninteresting it was in order to create interest, which it has done in an astonishingly satisfying way. I dedicate this post to Joe just because. I'll end today with a period--simple, straightforward, no smudges, black ink.

Salt n Pepa!

What is the world coming to? Moreover, what in tarnation (yes, tarnation) is the weather doing? The last few weeks I was on the verge of heatstroke in my nakedest of clothing with nearly record-breaking temperatures for May, like 35 degrees (which, by the way, hardly even happens in the thick of the summer months), and today I'm wearing a sweater and long pants and wishing we hadn't brought out the air conditioner yet. It's madness. I was all yes tan finally! and now I'm all...not like that. Sigh. Despite how much I dislike the naked dressing one must do in summer, I was really excited to get outside more. I want it to just happen already! And then I want it to be fall again because I love fall and it is the season with the best clothes.

I also want my lips to be not chapped. For whatever reason, they just dried up yesterday and no matter how much I lather them in Chapstick or petroleum jelly or even drink water nonstop to hydrate they won't get nice again. I hate dry lips. It is the worst state of lips existent. It makes everything uncomfortable. In the meantime, though, I suppose I shall just continue drinking litres and litres of water and Chapsticking beyond comprehension and eating supposed "moisture-replenishing" foods, like avocado. The oils in it or some other such nonsense.

Just thought you might like that spelling, ghosts. Also, are three staples really needed there?

Thou Shall Not Want

On Facebook nowadays there are recommended pages on the right that change every time you refresh or visit a new page, such as links to your friends if you're looking a pictures of them or a fan page of something related to anything you have become a fan of in the past. Today I was looking at some of my old pictures and getting rid of the ones I needed to and I happened to glance over at my recommended pages, which, by the way, I never do because I could care less, plus I have an agenda when I'm on Facebook. Anyway, I suppose at some point I decided to "like" the page DORY, as in Dory from the most excellent Pixar animated film Finding Nemo, and on my recommended page thing it said something I sincerely was not expecting. You would suspect a related page to DORY might be the Finding Nemo fan page or maybe another cartoon, like Shrek or Wall-E or something. Nope, not on Facebook. The most closely related page to DORY they can come up with is--wait for it--Slush Puppies. Yes. Because those are the same thing. An interesting correlation, I thought. Oh, I love that goofy animated fish...hey, a Slush Puppy! Ha, ha, ha. So silly. As a note, Slush Puppies really are delicious.

In other news, as some will know, musical mania is officially over. :( I hate emoticons, in all truthfulness, but I felt that was almost entirely necessary. I'm sad! It feels kind of childish to say it like that, but it is the best way to put it. People say I should be glad to have my life back, but the musical was my life. Now I don't have one. It's strange having so much free time and not seeing my musical family for at least three hours a day. It's not easy to be yourself when you've put your entire self into something and then it's gone, but I'll get there. At least now I can get back to my soul mate (Katelyn, of course, for those who don't know) and we can go on dates and eat cheese and read together again! I'm also hugely looking forward to tanning. My legs are starting to scare me at night because they glow with whiteness.

And on a sort of but mostly not really related note, I have a horrific habit I must stop: music bingeing. I find a song I like and listen and listen and listen and listen until when I listen to it I just want to turn it off and can't listen to it again for a few months. It's awful! I'm ruining good songs for myself and it's really hard to stop. It's like a serial dater--out of one fling and into another because you feel lost if you're not in one (to clarify, I am not a serial dater). I'm a serial listener. I garner such pleasure from one tune that I pour every listening hour I have into it until I have to banish it from every play list, from which I run to the next awesome song because I don't want to have to think about what I want to listen to. Examples include that Electric Feel remix I showed on this here blog, Five Years Time by Noah and the Whale (it's been a while since that, though--I listen to that again), Love Game by Lady Gaga (I know it's awful, but so addictive!) and I think I'm doing it right now with Bad Day by Darwin Deez. Gah! It's just...I don't know. If I don't have a list of music in front of me to tell me what must come next I'll just get into a loop. A vicious, destructive, song-killing loop of torture. There are a few songs I have made myself listen to within reason despite how deeply, even passionately, I want to over-listen, Parachutes by Pearl Jam among them, so I know that I can do it. It's not the ability, it's the decision. As is the case in more serious problems, I'm sure. At any rate, I'm trying not to over-listen to the music I dig right now, so wish me luck. I shall not listen to Darwin Deez again today. I forbid myself!

Oh, but do listen to this. Catchy. I dig it. Shall not music binge. Shall not music binge.

"I am Not a Robot"-Marina and the Diamonds

Pathetic Fallacy

I woke up to a dark, shadowy room. No one is with me; I am alone. I hear thunder in the distance. No rain, no sign of lightning, just the thunder. My dog hides in the washroom, stressed about the noise she cannot source or control. It is distant and muffled. The storm approaches but has not arrived.

I stir. I prepare myself for the day, knowing it will come at me just like any other day, and the electricity flickers as the storm nears. In the distance dogs bark, experiencing the same stress my own pet experiences at this time.

It begins to drizzle. I watch the patch of rain fall moderately on the world, then pass on and leave us in its moistened wake. I try to let my dog outside but she refuses.

The sun rises further behind the thick, dark clouds. Birds attempt the sing but are dumbed by the thump of fat, dense droplets of water. The rain intensifies. It is loud, full of pressure, tenseness and fear. Water fills the sky in my window and I watch it with reverence.

The rain falls harder still. It falls with purpose and power, pummelling the roof with vigour and ever anger. The clouds darken. It is as if the sky is falling in around me and I can do nothing but watch hopelessly, helplessly from the confines of my room--my own little slice of reality.

Then lightning flashes with insane electricity. Its crazed light fills the whole skyline, flashing like strobe. I listen with attentive ears for the deep rumble of thunder that is certain to follow. It does, with long, mellow vibrations that shake me from within. it is moving. I want to shut my senses off and feel it move me no more, but I don't. I can't. It surrounds me in scientific ways I cannot describe.

I stare out the window at the rain. It still falls heavily. I can always close my curtain and sit back on my bed; I can pretend the rain isn't there, but I don't. I watch it, compelled by its persistence, and a feeling of something even bigger coming that I cannot shake. I watch, I wait, and somehow I know. It will come.

Finally it does. A great cracking thunder that seems to split the sky in two goes on and on. It cracks viciously like a whip, followed by a boom of such depth and force it intimidates. My dog is sent into hysterics. It is long and it is loud, so loud I want to lock myself in a room forever and always just to escape it, but I don't...I can't. I force myself to let the rain fall heavily before me and the thunder envelop me as I stare, exposed, feeling it rattle me from all angles and electrify my every nerve.

The thunder stops. It ends quietly, sorrowfully, and leaves me feeling empty and homeless. The rain continues as it was for a long time. Eventually it slows, stops, picks up drizzling now and then.

A distant rumble echoes its predecessors. Sometimes the lights dim. At times even a great, painful crash can be heard from the clouds far away. The rain trickles on in the aftermath of the storm. I stare out the window no longer. I am now left to my own devices in my slice of reality. I still hear the rain, I still feel the thunder, I know the storm is not entirely over. It never will be. Its effects can never be undone or ignored. The storm is a scar, a permanent, prominent memory. It is hard, harder than I can explain, to turn away from. But I must continue preparing for the day, because I know it will come at me just like every other day.

Clint

Here he is!

Looking...crazy

My brother Court.

<3