Quails, glorious quails

My quails!

From top to bottom: Sufjan, Antoinette, Maude, and Flip [with Antoinette stealing a spot in the background.]

I just love how each of them has their own personality. Sufjan is the born leader, he always is pushing the others around and sleeps in the middle of the little nest they've consructed. Antoinette like to jump on things, and is the most trusting. Maude is the most easily scared, and likes to sit in their little house thing. She also likes to sit in the feed dish, much to the chagrin of the others. She flies the most. Flip is kind of passive and makes the lowest-pitched sounds of all of them. He really likes carrots, and the others don't.

Go to the buildings that tower above us, go to the stages and hope that they love us.

Here's a song I just unearthed from my archives, thought I'd share it.

"An Hour Left on the Highway"

1-- Give me Italian food and a cardiac stent
A Canadian dime to give our homeless kin
A good pair of shoes and a trenchcoat and sunglasses too
Beat up braincells and money to be spent
Marginally scary but I'm glad we went
Seeing blazing flares and fires to my left and right
And here we are, driving ourselves into the night

Ref-- And here we go across the world
The neon lightbulbs spin and twirl
My head is aching and I've been waiting
For a mocha and a place to focus
Screaming voices and endless choices
Laughter and disaster and inevitable noises
It's all cause we have no time to stay
And there's still an hour left on the highway

2-- Go to the buildings that tower above us
Go to the stage and hope they love us
Walk the gauntlet and look up into a hole
See the Skyway glowing yellow and red
See the steel and fiberglass mess with your head
Give the toll booth girl in the white gloves a five dollar bill
And when the batteries die, hope you have the memories still

Bridge-- And then your lipstick bleeds and the music dies
And your fantasy fades and the babies cry
And you take off your glasses and you finally see
That you have to pay to have reality
And the road gets bumpy and you bite your toungue
And you wait for tomorrow but it never comes
And through all this you hope and pray
That you'll make it through this hour left on the highway.

This came from an excruciatingly tiring car ride with my family as we traveled home from Chicago. I wrote it in the car at around midnight by the light of a Nintendo DS in an old sketchbook to the tune of screming 5 year olds.
Such fun.

How long, how long must we sing this song?

I've become increasingly frustrated with all the complainers in my life. Recently, a "friend" was whining to me about how her parents hate her because of the way she dresses, how she'll subsequently disobey everything her parents tell her to do, how she doesn't believe in God because God doesn't believe in her, and oh! How no one loves her [she's gleaned this assessment from the fact that she can't keep a relationship going for more than a few months]. And recently, on the glorious Facebook, this particular girl posted a note that was a list of things that one could own/have done to see if you were "Ghetto", "Average Teen", "Upper Class", or "Snobbish Rich Kid". Her score of things was a 35, I believe, falling into the "Average Teen" category. When I filled this list out, I got a 19, and was therefore classefied as "Ghetto". Now, I am not poor, nor am I disadvantaged, I just haven't been on cruises or met a celebrity or owned my own computer/TV/Pool.
My main point is, this girl really has no right to complain about her life when she isn't bad off at all in comparison to many others. I doubt HIGHLY that her parents actually hate her for her copious amounts of eyeliner or snakebite peircings, and it wouldn't kill her to change some stuff so her parents didn't "Hate" her. If she was truly concerned that her parents hated her, she would change. It took everything I had to not roll my eyes and laugh in her face when she announced her resolute desicion to rebel against her parents, because that's jsut so typically, disgustingly immature. Her poor, poor parents. Her philosophy of "God doesn't believe in me" just angered me. I'm not terribly religious, but I was raised Catholic and I know my fair share of theology. Who is she to accuse God of not caring about her? Why is she so important that she's the ONLY one who God doesn't love? And how is she to know what God thinks of her? Heck, if she claims to not believe in the existence of God, how can she say God doesn't believe in her? And no one LOVES her? Okay, so you can't keep a boyfriend. That doesn't mean no one LOVES you. Eat some ice cream, watch a romantic comedy, and get over it!
It just bothers me.
People need to be grateful for what they have and stop making such far-fetched cries for ill-deserved attention.
While I realize that this girl may be very maladjusted, that does not excuse her from being obnoxious about it.
Okay. Now I'M bordering on being a complainer, so I'll jsut stop there.
Arrivederci.

Tangerine trees and marmalade skies.

As I said previously, I've re-made this here bloggy blog in an effort to "grow up" a wee bit. Also in an effort to not have a seizure every time I blogged.
Here I am, sitting in English 11 AP, doing basically nothing having finished penning my memoirs. Around me are the sounds of innumerable restless voices. I am twirling in my spinny chair and doodling pictures of stars on the back of the quiz we just got passed back.
For lunch I had cold veggie pizza and an apple that looked like it had been touched up with cheap lipstick.
I think I have the flu.
I am currently eating one of those lifesaver mints that sparks when you bite it really hard. That always worried me a little, because food is not supposed to light up [in my humble opinion.]
I am listening to two girls talking about the upcoming swim season, several boys in the back loudly discussing how awesome some band from 1978 is, and the mechanical hum of the computer.
We got our school pictures back today, and I look surprisingly tolerable, except for some random janked up curl sticking up off my head.
I'm having guilt issues because I bought a plastic bottle of water today.
I still have a bucket load of Music Theory homework to do.
There is little more to report.

-What do you call cheese that isn't yours? -- NACHO cheese!

School's been busy, which is why I've been such a bad girl and not written in a while. What with the intolerably, utterly, ridiculously huge mounds of AP US history notes I've had to take, the lengthy Latin translations, and confusing compositions due for music theory, I've not had a whole lot of free time on my hands.
Also choir has been slowly eating at my soul with its very cliche medlies about world peace. Major thirds can only be used so much in an attempt to harmonize, my dear music arrangers...sheesh.
In other slightly more splendid news, The quails are getting bigger! Antoinette has developed light brown stripey feathers, Maude is turning a very pretty lavender shade of grey, Sufjan is almost black but with blue tints when he's in the right light, and Flip is still very very blue n' ginger. They still are a bit scared of me, but will now eat out of my hand.
Let me see, what else... Oh, on the 14th I will be auditioning for two plays: The first,our old favorite The Sound of Music. I'm planning on auditioning for either Leisl or Frederic, depending on the amount of prepubesent boys that try out. The second is entitled Rumors, and it's about a dinner party. That's all I know about it as of now, but there's a character who's description is nothing more than "A bundle of nerves". Nervous characters are always fun to play..
On a diferent note, all the allegedly depressed scene kids who are infilterating my territory are grinding my last nerve into irked little shreds.
I am cold, I am sleepy, I love nacho cheese, and there is little more to say. I must away, I still have to finish my blasted homework.

Side note: For those of you who actually look at this blog [anyone? anyone out there??] I've changed it, because the whole red n' purple scheme I had going on was giving me a little bit of a seizure every time I saw it. So. Plus I think mayhap I should mature this a little bit, to reflect more of myself and less of my mid-sophomore-year self. For that self was not a very splendid self...