Dear Brits... I'm sorry about my boyfriends brother...

Since I finally switched from my battered old Mac to the Lenovo I bought my mother (who insists that it's mine, so I brought it to my flat because my Mac's wifi failed) I've finally been able to sort out my stats. 

Meaning: I now get to see who and what and where visits my blog. 

My most popular post is my Warped Tour/Pretty Reckless post, mainly because of the pictures of Taylor Momsen. My second most popular is about Meghan McCain because the word "boobs" is in the title. 

So I guess I owe a lot of thanks to Taylor Momsen and big boobs?

Anyways, I thought I'd get on before heading to work. 

I'm watching my boyfriend play Modern Warfare and he keeps trying to convince me to play. I mean, I might. It doesn't seem to difficult and I've babysat his dude before while he's been off doing things and doesn't want to get kicked, so I might be able to actually hold my own. I'd need to practice where others can't witness it though. So I might do that. 


But for now I mostly watch and listen.


Yesterday was actually quite interesting. Well, not always good interesting, but interesting. He was playing a round with his brother, his brothers girlfriends stepfather (complicated, I know) and assorted other people who started picking on these three Brits. 


That sort of pissed me off because I am British at heart and am planning on moving to England and could really do with a few less American's making other countries hate us. 


The girl, whose gamer tag was Lady Sov (as in Lady Sovereign, the cutest petite rapper on the planet... and I know I'm already bisexual so this might mean less, but yes I'd go gay for her...) and my boyfriends dumbass brother called her a whore. 


Now, I get it. Darrell is a complete tosser (though explaining to him what a tosser was after the girl called him it was almost worth it...) and no one was particularly surprised by this turn of events. Then there was the fact that to piss them off he called them Australian... and has been calling Australians British to piss them off...


It was quite silly all in all but it ended in a privet chat where I got to listen to the three Brits rip into Americans.


Which was so worth it.


My favorite quote came from the girl, who said...


"You guys are such a racist country, and you've got a black president, how fucking confused are you?"


It's true.


Anyways, I've got to go make a pack lunch since my lunch break isn't long enough for me to go anywhere and I don't have money to go anywhere anyways, between Christmas and the fact that today is my boyfriends mum's birthday. Must go buy her chocolates or something...


I sent her a cute text though.

 ''''''''
 ||||||||
----------
: Happy  :
:Birthday:
----------
   ) (
   ---


See? Cute.

Anyways, I'm off to work. 


XO


FREAK

My Giant SKINS Post

Hello All.

Been too long.

Was busy.

In college.

Midterms.

Turned into Finals.

Do have a job.

Don't have a life.

Didn't get to blog.

So sad.

Too bad.

Anyways, I'm back.

So stuff it, okay?

WARNING:

This blog contains only the best drugs, raging parties, wild sex, gritty violence, hilarious idiocy, dangerous brilliance, zany bisexuals, sexy lesbians, and gay boys with great hair, pictures of great asses, perky tits, toned tummies, smeared makeup, sex hair, chipped nails, and ripped tights, videos full of colorful cursing, amazing music and as many other dangerous and addictive things as can fit into one blog.

Perhaps this is just a blog about the amazing UK show Skins and its up and coming US counterpart, or perhaps this is just a taste of reality.

Either way, hold on tight.

What was the first thing that I ever saw of the British TV show Skins? How did I first meet Tony, Michelle, Sid, Cassie, Chris, Jal, Maxxie, Anwar, and Effy?

This is how:

That video is of a party. A party full of teenagers. Teenagers in Bristol. I was a little shy of 15 at the time, and I watched the first season on YouTube because it took FOREVER to reach America.

(I'll pause while you realize that that explains A LOT)

That first season of Skins gave us some really interesting characters. REALLY interesting characters.

The first generation:

Meet Tony Stonem, world class douchebag, and his younger sister Effy - the dangerous party girl, despite her young age. Then there's Sid Jenkins, the socially incompetent best friend that Tony treats like shit, and Chris Miles, who is by far the biggest party boy in the first season with nicknames like Monkey Man and a motto of "Fuck It". Jal Fazer, the daughter of a famous rapper and clarinet prodigy, is the best behaved in the first season while her best friend Michelle is Tony's girlfriend, a gorgeous girl who needs to learn to stand up to Tony's shitty behavior. There's also Anwar Kharral and Maxxie Oliver, the drug using sex obsessed muslim and the amazing gay dancer respectively. And we best not forget Cassie Ainsworth, the daughter of sex obsessed seemingly bohemian parents who gets attention by being anorexic and taking too many drugs. And then there's Abigail Stock, Tony's bitchy privet girls school attending mistress, and in season two there's Sketch, who tries to bed the very gay Maxxie and nearly kills Michelle.

The second generation:

Come the third season, only Effy is left, with her friend Pandora Moon - who is a total mess, complete with hair baubles and neon bright sneakers. At their first day of college they meet the rest of the cast: Katy and Emily Fitch, twins with a queen bee complex (Katy) and a doormat personality and in the closet love of a girl named Naomi (that would be Emily, of the famous Naomily romance), as well as Naomi Campbell the outspoken and political blond. James Cook, the overly confident son of a bunk off father and self-obsessed artist mother, shares the screen with his best friends JJ Jones (who has Asperger syndrome and uses magic tricks to make friends) and Freddie Mclair, who falls madly in love with Effy and is a weed smoking, skateboarding slacker with a heart of gold. The final in the main line up is Thomas Tomone, who came to Bristol to make a life for his mother and siblings and gets himself sent back to the Congo when his mother finds out about his hedonistic behavior, only to return not long after. Karen McClair, Freddie's sister, wants nothing more than to become famous, is a main supporting character.

We're still waiting on news for the fifth season - third generation - but here's a picture:

In the American version, we have Stanley (the renamed Sid), Michelle, Chris, Abbud (the renamed Anwar), Cadie (the renamed Cassie), Tony, and Tea (the renamed/regendered Maxxie).

Here's a look at their version of the series one trailer:

Well... it isn't exact. But it still looks alright, yeah?  mean... it's MTVs version, of course... but...

I read on the comments on the official Skins US page that some people like this new Michelle better. I do. Well... maybe not better. But I like her sooner, if that makes sense. I liked Michelle UK well enough at first but didn't start to like her much until near the end of the first series.

Michelle US seems a little more interesting. 

And I sort of fancy the girl who plays her...

*cough*

Anyways. 

So that's the start of my big post about Skins. The start, you ask? 

Yes. Just the start. You see, Skins is a bit of an obsession of mine. A friend went so far as to call it a fetish. I will admit that it has influenced the book I'm writing right now, called The Perfect Girl and yeah it involves Celtic lore, but shush. I will also admit that I kind of want to be them.

And I kind of am them. 

Unless something changes, by this time next year I will be.

Regardless, it's time to talk Skins.

The reality that is skins is somewhat overwhelming. It's a teen television show that gives the teenage condition weight. We don't all act like the bimbos on the Hills. We're not on One Tree Hill or My Life As Liz. Skins pushes it to extremes, slightly more extreme than a chunk of teenagers will admit to.

Or see. 

The funny thing about American teenagers in particular is that we all lie about it. 

All of us. 

Not always about the same things, but we all lie.

"Are you having sex?" 
"No."

"Are you taking pills?" 
"No."

"Are you drinking alcohol?"
"No."

"Are you smoking marijuana?" 
"No."

"Are you smoking cigarettes?" 
"No." 

"Did you go to the party last night?" 
"No."

"Did you just get home?" 
"No."

"You haven't stopped eating again have you?"
"No."

Much like Chris tells Jal in episode 5 of season 2, we need to stop saying no. Skins stops saying no, Skins says yes. 

"Are you high?"
"Yes."

"Is that a new tattoo?" 
"Yes."

"Were you two just having sex?" 
"Yes."

"Do you have any more of those pills from the party last night?" 
"Yes."

Say yes. 

Say "Fuck it." 

Through out the seasons of Skins, there isn't anything that stays hidden.

The awkward topic of Virginity.

And the awkward topic of kids who aren't virgins.

Stoners.

What happens if you take too many drugs...

Or not enough.

The end result of sex...

And how abortions can deal with it.

Cheating.

Living together.

Teachers hooking up with students...

And students hooking up with students.

Parties...

Death...

Lots of death. Lots of drugs. 

Skins doesn't color inside of the lines, or use the correct colors, or even color at all some times. 

It's both neon bright and dark and gritty.

No one ever said that the beginning couldn't be longer then the rest of the post.

Did they?

Fuck it if they did. 

I have other things going on...

Places to see, people to do...

*smirk*


XO


FREAK


PS: do you like skins? If you do, do you like it because it's shit you'd never do? Or because it's your life? Or because you wish it were your life? 

Sooo...

Since I last talked to you lot, I moved into my new flat (yay!). That's kind of my big news. I moved into a little one-bedroom, one-bathroom flat down the street from the community college I go to. It has a washer and dryer and dishwasher (oh my!) and my neighbors internet is named captkirk and until yesterday it was unlocked. Now I need to get my own internet - and basic cable or something because I'm literally bored out of my mind when I'm alone.


Oh, and it's haunted. 


Yeah, it's haunted. 


Like really haunted.


Like I see shit and hear shit and my TV turns on and off and my PS3 turns on and off and my fridge opens and closes and SOMEONE left my Ben & Jerry's out! 


That ghost is gonna get it's butt kicked. Just saying.


Anyways, I'm moving into my flat still. My first night I had an air mattress for a bed and an air mattress for a couch. All of the food that I had was Ben & Jerry's fro-yo and bread and cheese. It was a long night. 


Now I've got a couch and a TV and a TV stand and curtains over my back door because otherwise it lets cold air in and it's pretty cool. I'm not done getting it sorted yet, but I'm working on it. 


And tonight I'm back at my mums house because last night I had a really bad nightmare and she's afraid I won't be able to sleep at home alone (since the boyfriend has work until 2 am). 


So this nightmare...


Want to hear about it?


Probably not, but I need to write it down. 


For the record, everything on MY blog is MY property.


So ANYWAYS...


My nightmare was about this old house that I've never seen before or heard of or anything. It was old and graying and up on a hill, a road wound down from the hill/cliff through the forested valley. It was summer but still chilly. The first thing you see at the top of the road is the garage, and signs are posted everywhere that say NO JEWELRY. The garage was open but empty. Next to it, there was an oil stain on the paved parking space at the top of the drive. 


I was and wasn't there. I myself was never there, but I occasionally saw things through peoples eyes who were there, or from an outside perspective. But I was there enough to know that I didn't like the feeling I got from the place. 


A man with short-ish graying black hair and tweaked out eyebrows, stubble and a messy beard, glazed over eyes behind thick glasses and worn-thin clothes walked out of the garage and looked at the people gathered there. 


They had been invited to look into the paranormal activity there. 


He asked them to take their jewelry off and, feeling the same discomfort I did, they said they didn't have any. He walked them through the house and everyone was looking around, feeling that feeling... that discomfort that alerted me as soon as the dream started that it was going to be a full blown nightmare. 


They walked through the house as he told them about the activity. But he wasn't saying something. He didn't want to talk about it because he didn't want them there. He wanted them far, far away. 


As time went on, I started to feel why he didn't want them there. I figured it out for sure when his daughter came. 


She was thin and pale with mousy hair. The guy in charge of the investigation, I kept feeling like he was Ryan Buell but I don't know for sure, pulled out two pictures in a plastic bag and asked if she knew who they were. 


She instantly burst into tears. The guy, who she was in the picture with, was Spencer, her older brother. He'd died when he was 23. The other picture on the back, a girl with wild blond hair and heavy makeup, was Lauren, her sister. She'd been 17 when she died, on the same night as Spencer. 


I went into a flash suddenly that the people actually there didn't see. It had taken place a little over seven years before.


In the early morning, Lauren and Spencer went over to the top of the drive, where the car was. They climbed in, both still in their pajamas, ready to take off. The other girl, whose name I never learned, was asleep inside. They were going to come back for her, but couldn't stay. Their father had gotten into satanism and had sold his soul to the devil in exchange for escape from wherever they had lived before. It was a foreign country and he'd been a scientist or psychologist or something, and had gone crazy, killing his wife and then fleeing. 


He'd been sacrificing animals in the house, mainly dogs in order to turn them into Hellhounds. They would see him pacing the house or the cliff or the rickety staircase that went from the cliff down to the lake below late at night. He was, they were relatively sure, completely possessed. He'd taken down all of the religious symbols they had and had taken away their rosaries. They were no longer allowed to go to church. 


They couldn't stay, but their sister was too young - thirteen - and they couldn't bring her. It was winter and the car was a convertible. It was snowing.


So they took off, but as they rounded the first curve they heard the barking of hellhounds. Then they started seeing things, finally something hot and fiery that ran them off of the road. Lauren flew out of the car, being impaled through the throat on a tree branch over a hundred feet in the air, where she hung kicking and gurgling until she died. Spencer was still in the car, stuck, until it crashed and burst into flames. He died in the crash. 


Without warning, I popped back to "present day" with the group and suddenly could feel the hellhounds and could feel the mans possession and could feel the demon in the house... and the others could too. 


Before long, the man left us alone to investigate. We were back by the garage and everyone could feel what was going on, and on instinct all at once they pulled out their religious jewelry. I saw several covered, Paganism and Catholicism and Judaism.


The air got mad. It burned me, made them uncomfortable. The house was angry. The Hellhounds were howling and snapping at them, but couldn't touch them because they had their icons. 


A moment later, the guy in charge started to act funny but not. Like he didn't want anyone to notice. 


He had been challenging the spirit and had stupidly taken off his rosary, handing it to a friend. Without it's protection, the demon had swept in and forced itself into his body. 


I noticed but couldn't say anything. But he could suddenly tell that I was there. I "fled" into one of the women, hiding in her body (not a choice I made, just sort of happened) but not taking over her consciousness or anything. Just needing a safe place to be. 


I was terrified. He was pissed because I knew what had happened to Spencer and Lauren. 


Soon he couldn't keep fooling the other investigators and one of them forced him down into a chair. They got thrown across the room and the girl I was in pulled out her phone, trying to call a priest. 


At the same time, the guy was starting to force the demon out of his body on his own. He was angry at the invasion and got to the point that he could talk to them. 


He said to bring him his rosary and put it on him. Said to read a specific passage from the bible. Said to spray holy water. 


The house got mad then, trying to keep them from stopping the haunting.


It got bad then, and I can't even properly remember it. 


I remember the man coming back and trying to physically attack the investigators. Then them having to run. The one guy had gotten his body back... they took off running, down the rickety stairs and towards the boat house. There was a road as well that went along the side of the lake. They tried to escape but soon things were shoving them. 


Finally, they got into a car. I was still "hiding" in the girls body, and when she was... well, she went into shock, and it let me take over. I started the car and shouted, everyone piling in, starting to drive. I knew what the demon was capable of - running people off of the road - and managed to ignore it and drive despite the hell hounds and scary things I saw and heard. They reached the town at the base of the mountain two hours later and I  pretty much "fell" out of her body, exhausted and unneeded. they talked about what happened, abandoning the stolen van and getting a plane out of there, staying at the airport until they left. 


THAT is my nightmare. I've had it twice a year since I was nine. I don't like it. 


ON a lighter note, I'm staying at my mothers (already mentioned) which means I can watch Paranormal State. New Episodes tonight at nine. YES. 


And I had a pretty fabulous dinner. And I'm annoyed because my boyfriend hasn't called. But OTHER than that...


Ugh. That was the worst dream I've ever had. Well... one of them. 


Bleh. 


I'm going to go back to watching the badass and incredibly attractive Ryan Buell kick paranormal butt. AND the super smart and super sexy Katrina Weidman being super smart and sexy on the telly. AND the super amazing and artistic Eilfie Music... AND the rest of the amazing team. Next time I have that dream, I for sure want them to be the paranormal investigators in it because I obviously can't handle it myself. 


XO
FREAK

I've been gone...

for quite a while. Honestly, I'm sure none of you give a damn. But I still feel obligated to apologize. 


Here's what's been up:


I went to see Jackass 3D and realized that very few films are made with great use of 3D effects. I didn't realize this because it was used badly in Jackass but because it was used really well. There were a few stunts that churned my stomach but it was overall really fabulous. 


I got the go-ahead on my new apartment, and will be moving in on Monday. Crazy crazy, I'm going to be a big kid now. Have to have some friendlings over to break the place in. Looking forward to holiday season because that's a great excuse for a) a brightly lit tree and b) friends friends friends. Plus, I have the Weezer Christmas album that doesn't get much air play in my house except on the days around Christmas.


My boyfriend got himself a job doing manual labor that a monkey could do. I don't judge, I'm working a job that a monkey could do, too. 


I'm working on a book that I'm planning on eventually getting published. As yet untitled, it takes all of my shitty high school experiences and condenses them and those of my friends down into a few chapters that then evolves into a modern day fairy-tale. 


Um... that kind of sums it up for now. Just wanted to check back in, I guess. 


XO
FREAK

Big Boobs Are Not A Crime

Meghan McCain is an interesting creature. At eighteen, she registered as an Independent (like yours truly) and in 2004 voted for John Kerry (like my mother did), and believes that global warming is a serious issue that needs to be dealt with and that stem cell research is valid (like her father). She's now a Republican who (in her own words) is "liberal on social issues". She believes in sex education and birth control, and is pro-life. She objected to the Arizona SB1070 (that one that said not having your papers was a crime) and supports gay equality. Not only does she support gay equality in general, but specifically same-sex marriage and gay adoption. She posed for the NOH8 campaign, and is in favor of repealing Don't Ask, Don't Tell and letting gays serve openly in the military. 


She summed herself up at the Log Cabin Republicans convention in April 2009 by saying: "I am concerned about the environment. I love to wear black. I think government is best when it stays out of peoples lives and businesses as much as possible. I love punk rock. I believe in a strong national defense. I have a tattoo. I believe government should always be efficient and accountable. I have lots of gay friends. And yes, I am a Republican." 


(To fact check above information, start with Wikipedia and end with her most recent book, Dirty Sexy Politics)


I may not agree with her on everything, but I didn't expect to. The fact that she agrees with most of the things I believe and is a Republican points out to me that she may actually be the frontrunner of a new wave of Republicans who are here to help the world, not just themselves. I know, I may be biased because I survived the Bush era, but still. 


Meghan McCain is kind of my hero right now. And in just a few minutes she'll be on Rachel Maddow (another hero, I adore her to death) and I'm sitting here with my Ben & Jerry's Fro Yo and waiting impatiently. 


I love when Meghan McCain is on Rachel Maddow because it's the coming together of the best of each possible view point. 


For that reason, I'm pissed that there are bloggers out there who are attacking Meghan McCain for calling Christine O'Donnell a nutjob (which, you know, O'Donnell is...) and not only are they attacking her, they're attacking her by calling her things like "Meggie 'Big Mac' McCain" and stated that "this self-indulgent set of mega-breasts doesn't belong anywhere near a TV studio commenting on anything" (that's from Dan Riehl). 


Now, as a member of the big-boob population, I find that especially annoying. I think that Meghan McCain is gorgeous and I think that making sexist comments that also attack body image is low. 


More than low. It makes all these dudes who are saying it complete assholes. 


Anyways, I'm going to sit here as an independent who leans democratic and say that Meghan McCain has some fabulous stances on the political world. And I don't care what size her boobs are, or who her father is, or whatever. 


I believe in her stance on politics. 


That's all that counts. 


Catch her on Rachel Maddow on MSNBC tonight. 


XO
FREAK

Paranormal State!

I'm such a paranormal freak, probably because ever since I was knee high to a grass hopper I was seeing and hearing things. I'm nowhere near most "psychics" but no one doubts what I see. I see things more in my minds eye than physically, though I've been known to stop dead because someone has popped up in front of me. Doubt me if you will, but it is what it is. It is what I see. 


Because of that, I've always felt drawn to Paranormal shows. Ghost Hunters, Paranormal State, and the now defunct Most Haunted, which was my first exposure to televised paranormal investigations. 


But ever since Paranormal State popped up, I was fascinated. Not only did they use some really fabulous tech for advertising - the directional audio billboard won them a place in my geek heart - they also had a cast that I found fascinating. 


Which I think is an important thing to mention, because I watch the show for the Paranormal Research Society not for the editing by A&E that has been questioned occasionally. 


But I have this strange soft spot for Ryan Buell. 


He was haunted as a child and took that and started PRS at Penn State. He's flat out adorable. He's smart, sweet and very, very human. I've always wanted to sit down and talk to him. I think it's adorkable when he says "y'all" and other things, which have snuck into my own vocabulary. And I'm very, very proud of him for coming out as bisexual. 


Well anyways, today is the day that the new season of Paranormal State started and I, along with other loyal fans, settled in to watch. Next up is Psychic Kids, another of my many soft spots, and suffice it to say I'm a bit of a fanatic. 


But the thing is, I watch these shows not out of morbid curiosity or to scare myself but rather because when I was a kid, I saw things.


I saw things in dark places, had things chase me and grab at me, had someone sit on my bed when no one was there, saw the former occupants of one of the homes we lived in wandering around like they'd never died, heard things when I'm alone, seen things out of the corner of my eyes and even felt things touch me. 


I'd die if I got the chance to investigate with PRS. It's on my bucket list, actually. 


Well, I'm going to focus in and watch Psychic Kids then finish my math homework and crash. 


But check out Paranormal State! 


XO
Freak

Recap

So many things to talk about!


Well... lets see. Where shall I start?


Last school week was obnoxiously long. It also means that I completed my THIRD WEEK of College. Downside was that I found out that if my WR241 teacher doesn't like me/my writing (even if it's good) I'll probably get flunked. Upside, she's liked my style so far. At least outwardly.


If she doesn't like it by end of term, I'll loose my apartment. Yep. Because my apartment is only getting paid for by my father for as long as my grades are above a 3.0 and a FAIL in WR241 means NOT a 3.0 for me. Or even close.


Other letdown from WR241 was the fact that my creepy stalker dude hadn't been removed. Upside is that he's started fleeing as soon as school lets out. Still going to make my boyfriend show up early and wait outside for me on Wednesday.


Other school news, I'm annoyed with writing in an "academic voice" in my WR121 class. I don't want to learn how to write in an academic voice. My senior paper is as academic as I'm ever going to get and that's my version of an academic voice and that's how it shall stay. Also, might be tutoring some more kids. That's $15 an hour. Pocket money? Yes please.


And finally, MTH95... well, it went well on the one day we had a sub, because our actual teacher is a complete bloody idiot. But I got a 90% on a test, which was promising.


Then last night was my boyfriends birthday and we engaged in mild hedonistic behavior - and I got a new dress! - and today is my mothers birthday and I've just finished the painting I did for her...


And I'm watching Shrek and waiting for her to get back from doing something social, then we're having dinner and watching a movie and hanging out. My boyfriend is sick so isn't over like he'd planned and I was feeling sick so came home early - I was going to go see Jackass 3D with him at 2:40 but... the sickness! THE SICKNESS! - and yeah.


Other important information is that I found a brilliant new musician a while back who I'm finally wanting to feature. She'll get her own post in a bit, but for now, just check her out.


Misty Miller


She's a teenager from England who writes her music on a Ukulele. She's fucking awesome.


Anyways, that's it.


XO
FREAK

Once again, we're back to "The Real Housewives"...

My mother is watching the reunion show from Real Housewives DC and it's pretty solidly making me want to meet Michaele Salahi JUST so I can tell her she's...
~ An idiot
~ A bitch
~ Faker than a Barbie Doll
~ A liar
~ Petty
~ Vapid
~ Useless
~ Less useful in society than an STD
Among other things. 


Actually, honestly, my opinion of her is pretty well summed up in Platypus by Green Day. 


But enough of her. Lets talk about the rest of the cast.


The Real Housewives of DC flew under the radar in my last Real Housewives post. I'd only watched part of an episode and I didn't much like it. But now? 


I've come to appreciate the majority of the women.


The one who at first put me on edge was Catherine Ommanney. She seemed bitter and annoying and like she could use a filter, but over the course of the series I realized that she was actually a really sweet person. She was also a very strong personality, and though it took some getting used to, I realized that I would willingly put up with her. She's a Londoner and a mother and I'm actually looking forward to her book coming out. Yes, I will read it. I find her fascinating. 


Then there's Stacie Scott Turner. I think part of the reason I found issue with her was that she was constantly accusing Cat of being a racist, and when the reunion show aired tonight she claimed that she had never accused her of any such thing. She did. Buck up and admit to it. You were an ass but we're not going to hold it against you if you just say you're sorry. That said, I found a bit of pity for her when I found out that she wasn't able to find her birth father. The whole adoption thing... yeah, I'm used to that. I'm adopted, I found my birthmother and it went to shit. I hope her story ends better. 


Lynda Erkiletian... I think the fact that she reminds me just a little of my mother is why I tolerate her. Some of what she does would bother me otherwise, but she just makes me laugh because I see so much of my mother in her. Other than that, I don't really have an opinion on her. Oh, but her admission that she smoked weed as a teenager makes me grin.


But oddly enough, my favorite on the series was Mary Schmidt Amons. I don't know why. She just was.  She's glazy, lazy and sweet. If you don't get it, watch an episode. I think I see a bit of me in her. In a weird way. 


I ended up liking the series a lot better than I was expecting to. 


And now I'm faced with The Real Housewives of Orange County. Who might have ruined the Weezer song Beverly Hills for me. But I'm 25 minutes into the first episode with my mother and I'm just...


No. 


I'll save my review for the final show or whatever. Until then, that's the end of that. I'll write a blog that's better soon. I have a ton of cool stuff for you guys.


XO
FREAK

a rant and an open letter to President Obama

EDIT: Since I posted this, things have started to look up. They also started to look down, and now they're doing both (I hope things don't get too bad of vertigo...) so while I still want things to change and promises to be followed through on, I want to remind everyone to keep up on politics so that you can form your own educated opinions. Sometimes it feels like one voice can't make a difference, but that should mean you speak louder, not less.

*****************************************************

Lily Allen put out a song on her album It's Not Me, It's You called Fuck You (well, technically called F**k You, but...) which is generally regarded as a jab (or full on stab, you pick) at George W. Bush, the (thankfully) former President of the United States.

I, as an openly bisexual, well educated, open minded, 18 year old female residing in the USA, believe that the song is perfect. 

Now, the thing is...

Even though Bush is gone, we still haven't fixed the problems that are really keeping us from evolving as a people. 

I was unsure about the last election, and if it had been up to me Hilary Clinton would be in office. When she wasn't an option... well, that's a rock and a hard place.

Fortunately, I wasn't old enough to vote so the fact that Obama has sort of fallen through as a president doesn't fall on my shoulders.

But I've got to say I'm mad right now. 

At the government, at Obama and at the world at large.

Why?

As mentioned, I'm an openly bisexual girl. I have gay and lesbian and bisexual friends, I've dated guys and girls, my mothers friend who has always been an uncle to me is gay, my great uncle was gay and I'm named after his long-time partner...

So the fact that Don't Ask Don't Tell exists? 

That pisses me off.

Just days ago a judge ruled that DADT was unconstitutional. Yeah. Because it is. 

I also believe that it is unconstitutional to treat any social group differently based on age, race, gender or sexual preference. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one in my home town, where on a daily basis I deal with people of all ages, races, genders and sexual preferences who are complete jerkoffs about things.

My father is Arabic and is racist against Mexicans and Mexican Americans. 

My former friend is gay and is homophobic about bisexual people - going so far as to claim that it isn't a real sexuality. He has said this to my face. Thus the "former" in "former friend". 

A girl I went to camp with in Seattle is a feminist who feels that girls who are both feminine and strong are "betraying the cause". 

I know people who are older who judge young people, young people who judge their elders...

It's stupid. 

So FUCKING stupid. 

But right now, the issue on the table is Don't Ask Don't Tell.

Right now, President Obama has the opportunity to END IT. 

And he hasn't.

He doesn't seem like he's going to.

He passed it off to the senate.

Suffice it to say, I'm upset. 

So here is the only statement I can make to our fearful leader.

***

Dear President Obama,

Please, for the sake of all Americans of all genders and sexual preferences, grow a pair and chose to NOT appeal the ruling to end Don't Ask Don't Tell. We had no choice but to put our trust in you when you said you would stand up for our rights, and you've betrayed us. Think about how many American lives have been destroyed because you wouldn't just stand up for us. That destruction is on your shoulders, Mr. President. This is a larger conversation that just DADT, but that's the issue you have to face right now. While DADT was conceived with good intentions, it has put a number of talented, intelligent soldiers in a choke hold. Speak about who they are, even on accident, and they lose everything. Not only do they loose everything, America loses a talented soldier. Lives are lost because translators are let go due to sexuality. Those lives are on your shoulders, the blood on your hands, Mr. President. You always have an excuse for why you dance around issues and don't face them head on, but I'm tired of listening. It's your job to protect American Citizens. It's your job to take the authority we gave you and use it for good. You are failing not only yourself and your family, not only the government and your people, but also the world. How? You're failing to set a good example. You're failing to be a strong leader. 

Stop playing political games. You talked the talk on the campaign trail and got yourself into office, but you then alienated those of us who had to believe in you by falling through on everything.

I'm sick of it, Mr. President. I'm sick of not having the same rights as the rest of the country. I'm sick of knowing that every day peoples jobs are at risk because of who they are, not because of any valid reason. 

The facts and figures will tell you the same thing that I'm stating here. Your numbers are down. Face it, you don't have a choice. If you don't put on your big boy pants and take charge, you're not going to have a chance to put it right in a second term.

So stop failing us, Mr. President. We deserve better than this.

Yours truly,

Sascha Marie

Revolution, Helter Skelter, Hey Jude, Eleanor Rigby and Michelle have always been my favorite Beatles songs. I first started listening to the Beatles when I was just a few days old, they were my mothers favorite band and she had a box set with ALL of their music, and even as I graduated into listening to other bands - The Runaways, Joan Jett, Hole, Nirvana, and a million more - I still have always loved the Beatles.


Just some songs more than others. Yellow Submarine, for example, has made me want to slit my wrists since I was in Elementary school and they got joy out of making us sing it every day in choir, in the round. The movie I love, but the song itself is suicide inducing. 


But of all the songs I love of the Beatles, I think my favorite favorite right now is probably Revolution. It was inspired by the massive political protests going on in early 1968 and is doubting some of the tactics, mainly the violent ones. Something I can agree with. 


On a semi-related note, I made a new shirt:

I'm kind of proud of myself haha.

Anyways, I'm off to College. 

XO

FREAK!

DIY? Yes Please!

There's this fashion line coming out. I don't know much about it, just got linked there from Twitter by some kid being retweeted by some musician I barely listen to, and it's called Sober Is Sexy. It's safe sex and anti-drug. Apparently. I got linked to a buzznet post from Hanna Beth so I'm going to assume that the ex gf of Metro Station's Trace Cyrus (also known as "Miley Cyrus' over rated yet under appreciated older brother") has something to do with it? She's apparently getting over some addiction...


Anyways, I don't actually care. Because that's not what this post is about.


Well it kind of is.


This post is about one of the shirts listed as part of the collection:


It's white, looks better with the sleeves ripped off and the sides slit, and in black on the front it says Heroin Killed The Radio Star


And you know what?


While I refuse to spend upwards of $25 on a shirt that's basically a DIY gone crazy, I am totally okay with taking that one white shirt I never wear and writing that on the front in Sharpie.


HA.


Another of their shirts is black with white typing that says The Only Coke I Do Is Diet, which is more lame, but I'll keep up with the collection solely so that on 10.10.10 when it comes out I can make some DIY t-shirts inspired by them.


And by the various Coco Chanel shirts I've been coming across lately.


Just a lot of DIY.


Anyways, college in a few minutes. Gotta run.


XO
FREAK

The Great Debate

Harry Potter v. Twilight.

This is quite possibly (and depressingly) a defining feature of todays youth. 

On the one hand, you have the Harry Potter Generation. Hi! That's me. And my beau. And most of my friends.

On the other hand, you have the Twilight Generation. Mostly younger than us HP fans, I see it mostly in this years high school Sophomores. They seemed hit hardest, but I'm not going to lie, there's a huge swath of older people who like twilight, in their 20's or 30's.

But more than age, there's a defining feature that draws a line in the sand that most HP/Twilight fans won't cross.

HARRY POTTER FANS

_____________________

TWILIGHT FANS

See? Line. In the proverbial sand. The HP fans may have read Twilight, but probably think it's dumb. If not, they fall into the other catagory: Twilight fans who like Harry Potter. 

The line in the sand is sort of a one-way line. 

Twilight fans are allowed to like other things, because they're notorious for ignoring quality and being suckered in by anything sparkly (VAMPIRES HAVE FANGS STEPHANIE MEYERS!) and if they're of the right age they probably remember when Harry Potter was all the rage and sparkly and new.

Harry Potter fans have dignity.

They know that Twilight could have been written by a twelve year old, that it's a self-serving story for Meyers because she gets to toss out all of her ideals (marriage before sex, anti-abortion even in the face of death) and she got to write a story where a girl who's entirely plain (and bitchy and dumb) and could easily be HER gets to hook up with a supposed sex god.

Also known as bitchy dumb boring looking inexplicably popular necrophiliac girl gets banged by ancient undead pedophile with a blood fetish.

Doesn't look so snazzy now, does it?

In HP, you come across things like "equal rights" and an argument against the validity of slave labor, racism and a million other things cleverly disguised as a book that (well, the first one anyways) was geared at children.

Harry Potter may not be the best written story in the world, but it improved over time and JKR is a fabulous story teller.

Twilight was shitty from book one through the most recent novella and anything that's going to come, and SMeyers is a shitty story teller.

And thus the debate rages on.

Are we the Twilight Generation or the Potter Generation? Shall we be remembered for sweeping cinematic set in Scotland or boys in glitter and lipstick in a dreary town in Washington that no one had ever heard of? Shall we be remembered for lessons about tolerance or about keeping a baby even if it might kill you? 

I've lectured my fair share of brainless preteen girls about the fact that the relationship between Bella and Edward - he's overpowering, she goes back to him even after he's emotionally/verbally abusive, he takes her away from her friends and family, bans her from seeing people, treats her like we're in the dark ages and GETS AWAY WITH IT BECAUSE HES A SPARKLEPYER - is really, really unhealthy. 

I don't care if you want to marry him. He's a) fictional and b) a total asshole.

And then there's Bella! She's vapid, for one. Almost killer herself several times over a boy who treats her like shit. Unintelligent. Really fucking bitchy - if she walked into any real high school, she wouldn't be swarmed and suddenly popular. You treat people like that and you have no friends. She's manipulative. She's everything I hate about teenagers. 

Don't model your social life after her. Both she and Edward show obvious signs of sociopath tendencies. THATS NOT GOOD.

I forget that not everyone has the entire Harry Potter series committed to memory. 

Let me wrap it up for you:

Boys parents are killed, ends up with bitchy family, finds out he's a wizard, goes to boarding school, meets fabulous friends, finds out about having an arch nemesis, has a more local nemesis, has many adventures, becomes the star of the local sport of choice, has more adventures, stands up for all sorts of things, has his trust betrayed by an old bearded man, looses his godfather and a handful of other people who were important to him, comes to terms with death, defeats arch nemesis, proves he's a good person, good triumphs over evil, world is saved, boy marries girl and has kids and lives happily ever after. 

Compare that to the plot of the Twilight saga:

Girl leaves mother to live with father so her mother can live happily ever after even though she's going to suffer, is bitchy and mean to everyone and yet they still fawn all over her, meets boy who obviously doesn't like her, becomes obsessed, decides its true love, almost dies, boy leaves to protect her, leads on other boy (younger), toys with a handful of boys emotions, nearly kills herself, boy nearly kills himself, rescues him, plans to live happily ever after, gets married just so she can have sex, has loads of violent sex on her honeymoon, has kid even though it nearly killed her, gets turned into a vampire, fights war, lives happily ever after without a care about the fate of the world.

I'll pause so you can take bleach to your brain and forget that Twilight ever existed. I'm sorry if anyone thinks I'm dumb. Just wait for a rant on the idiocies of Lady Gaga. Then you'll all hate me - I got kicked off of Buzznet for saying I thought her music had no artistic merit and cheapened female sexuality, among other things, so it won't be the first time. 

But for now, think for a moment about if you'd rather be remembered for Twilight or Harry Potter.

I'm going to re-read all of HP in time for the new movie, so I think you know where I stand.

XO

FREAK