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[07 Oct 2006|08:30pm] |
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mood |
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 energetic |
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music |
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The Cardigans- please sister |
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What? What is this. Yes. I left without a trace and for that I apologies to all my fans. Sam! You know what this means don’t you? We must celebrate my return with a good drunken romp through the woods! In the proper attire of course. The geese are gone or are going I don’t know if they have left yet. South for the winter. Gone the evil geese. Where have I been some may be wondering? That is a secret. So secret I don’t even know.
Classes. I have them. Which ones I don’t really remember but I’ll get to that when I need to go. There was some girl who made a post freaking out about starting late. Might I say hello to you. We can be late friends.
Oh and for those who don’t know me I am George. If you would like to be in my good graces please, offer me something that will intoxicate me.
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[20 Aug 2005|05:22pm] |
I have written my most persuasive letter yet! Grandmother is not forcing me to come back for the winter. Basically all the letter said was that I need to stay here in order to further my social interactions and that I will attend the Christmas party (that I’m not even sure is happening.) and that if I were to miss the party then my whole social life would crumble.
She bought it. My ninny grandmother bought it. If there is one thing she values in life is social status.
Now I will feel obligated out of guilt to go if there really is one.
But OH JOY! I am free! I don’t have to sit around with my grandmother and drink tea and read to her!
I can sit around here and drink anything but tea and read to myself! Joy!
I am so happy I don’t know what to do with myself!
Now I do love France and I miss the countryside but there is no use in being some place you love when you will be granted no time to see or enjoy it to its fullest potential.
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[16 Aug 2005|10:52pm] |
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Vampires, Zombies, and an oddly simple executed escape. Snow, if there will be snow in France which I do not doubt that there will be I shall spit into it with a hate so heated it will melt all the way through the snow to its stone covered ground into the pits of hell itself and make the Devil cry out in pain. Lighter note: I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts and a silly inebriated goose. Elaborate on this last sentence? Why no I don’t think I will.
I don’t know if I can survive the winter brake with my grandmother.
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[10 Aug 2005|11:56am] |
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music |
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Lou Reed- Andy's chest |
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What the world needs now is love sweet love.
If I hear that song one more time on the radio I think I will throw it against the wall and stomp on it. I really am so sick of that song. The one thing I have invested money in since I have been here and I want to destroy it.
Bach I have drowned my mind with the thrashing and clashing sounds of Bach. I’m full of angst and sadness. My mother had written to me that she wont be in Paris when I go to visit grandmother during the winter brake, which means I wont see her.
To hell with her right? If she doesn’t want me I don’t want her. But its not a matter of wanting it’s a matter of needing and that is a matter entirely different all on it own.
My spider died. I don’t even remember its name. Such is life I suppose, things people come and go. Ah France, France in the winter is so beautiful, Paris I can not wait.
Music. I’ve taken a liking to Skip James something about his voice- delta blues.
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[28 Jul 2005|09:10pm] |
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mood |
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 calm |
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I want need to do something anything. I have this horrible fear that boredom will rot my brain out. I stood on my hands for two minutes the other day till all the blood rushed to my head then spun around till I could not stand up, that only kept me occupied for so long. I have read every book that I have here, twice. My hand is in an arthritic state from writing so much maybe I should try writing on a computer but hand writing always appealed to me more. And well self gratification can only go so far.
Monotonous my life has become monotonous, humdrum, mundane, banal. Or in other words boring as all fucking hell.
There is a fuzzy brown spider in my room I have named him Marquis. Nothing more he is a spider Marquis should be enough for him. If I find him a mate he shall be Boris, Boris the spider. The Who are amusing.
Being lonely is utterly disgusting.
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[09 Jul 2005|04:27pm] |
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mood |
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 restless |
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music |
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Led Zeppelin- down by the seaside |
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Journal, I need to write in this thing. I have found myself to be quite the recluse lately and I myself am not quite sure as to the reason why.
My grandmother has the flu and believes that if she has it I will most certainly obtain it all the way over here in the states. She sent me so much tea it is absolutely ridiculous and some wine for medicinal use only as stated in her letter. She should know better that wine is not going to be used for what she intended. Grandmother had also written that my mother and Caroline have taken a holiday in Italy to see the art and sample the Italian life. Well it will be sampling for Caroline because my mother is from Italy. When I was younger she told me she was going to take me there someday just her and me, oh well.
Back to my hermitage lifestyle, or not how about people i talk, talked to.
I have no idea really what is going on with Lovecraft he has not been to class and well yes that is really all I have to say about that. The other person I seem, well the only person at the moment that I spend time with is Sam and I find it odd that whenever we meet we happen upon one another by chance. This way of meeting had me starting to ponder fait. Fait might be a bit passé for the twenty-first century but I don’t really care. Is it fait that one would run into somebody more than once but all further actions be up to the individual or are all events and actions pre planned by a higher being?
When I refer to a higher being I do not necessarily mean God but just some sort of being. My views of God are rather conflicted because I only seem to pray when something bad happens. I don’t go to church well not now but back home Grandmother had me go. I have started down another road from the one I intended I just can not seem to keep a straight thought in my mind right now. Fait, does fait have to be a religious word? Or is fait just a very pleasant and strange coincidence.
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[25 Jun 2005|12:04am] |
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music |
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Frederic Chopin - Nocturne In E Minor, Op. 72, No. 1 |
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A cheery disposition, a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.
I haven’t been out around people that often except classes and even then I have found myself to have been keeping to myself, which I don’t mind.
It is so much easier to study and learn when you do not have to think about people. I haven’t received a letter from my mother or grandmother, and that is good.
A bad thing is I seem to be avoiding on a subconscious level my outdoor wanderings.
I wish I had a punching bag in my room because I could go for beating something right now.
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[14 Jun 2005|09:41am] |
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mood |
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ecstatic |
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music |
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Alexi Murdoch- Orange Sky |
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Its raining! Oh god know one could know how long I have been waiting for the rain. True it postpones lovely picnics and makes tree climbing uncomfortable but long walks in the rain are so romantic.
However I guess I spoil my walks with my ridiculously large umbrella. I love to be out in the rain but I would rather no catch a cold or my death.
Being inside when it rains is wonderful too. All snug up against window sitting on the windowsill watching the rain fall outside and down the window, feeling the drops tap, tink, tap against the cool glass. Tracing your fingers against the glass following each raindrop as it slides down the window.
There is nothing better than waking up and having that warm feeling all around you being snug and comfy in the sheets hearing the pounding rain outside.
Or that fresh smell the rain leaves once its stopped or at least paused in its down pour. The grass is greener than before there are snails and earthworms working their way across the pavement.
Rain makes for great adventures when you find yourself stuck in it. Having to run and find shelter, an abandoned shack, house, huddling under someone’s front porch until they come of their home yelling at you to get off their property.
Porch! Sitting on the banister of a porch puffing a nice cigar watching the rain come down and the people scurry like ants to get out of the rain. There is nothing better then the sweet smell of the rain mixing with the dancing smoke of a fine cigar.
I hope we have a thunderstorm soon. Now those are good fun to be in.
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[10 Jun 2005|09:48pm] |
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mood |
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 curious |
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"The GLBT Club and Christian Students Union by arranging for safe environments in which they can meet, reviewing parking issues and exploring alternatives regarding lots and meters, making free wi-fi access available throughout the campus, and fighting to improve the quality of meals available at the Student Activity Center."
-Francie Hodgson
Does this mean that the GLBT and CSU would be the ones making the decisions about those issues? And if not then why would it be specified that they would talk about these things? Why not have a group that is for all students and not just ones who belong to either of those groups?
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[08 Jun 2005|08:03pm] |
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mood |
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lonely |
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music |
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Nick Drake- pink moon |
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I guess I should update my journal but nothing interesting ever seems to happen to me.
Chit chats hums and buzzing talks of the dance are echoing everywhere I go.
I’m glad everyone had such a great time. I just hope next time the school has such a social event my grandmother wont bombard me and drive to rebellion. Which leaves me alone with my thoughts and that is never a good thing.
I went to the park (as usual) during the night of the dace and rather than sitting at a bench or on the ground I decided that up was the way to go. So I walked around for a while and found a tree that was fitting enough and I climbed up into nook of two branches.
I have to admit after the first hour of sitting there with my legs dangling I got extremely bored. I got down walked around laid around on the grass got lost a few times when I went into the wooded areas, then back to the dorms.
You know the saying “All roads lead to Rome.”
I think they were a bit mistaken, all roads lead to my grandmother. Some how this woman found out about the Mr. Roberts incident and practically wrought an essay telling me to come home because she thinks that because im a foreigner that the finger will be pointed at me. I swear to god sometimes this woman drives me mad and then she makes me laugh.
I find it a bit ridiculous that the authorities are going after minors should they not be questioning other teachers? The Dean? Someone who would gain from the damage done? What could a student here possibly gain, I honestly think that all of us are mature enough to have some self control.
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[31 May 2005|05:52pm] |
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mood |
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uncomfortable |
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music |
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Alanis Morissette- uninvited |
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There are several interesting characters running around and Samuel seems to have held my attention, well more like curiosity. After his daring, foolish, and amusing exit from Film studies I wanted to track him down and pick at his brain, or just talk with him, but I got distracted with home work.
I went into town today and decided to try a hamburger. I had never eaten one before, and well lets just say the grease and the meat did not agree with my bowls and now I am in so much pain.
I will never eat another hamburger as long as I live.
My grandmother never let me eat fast food, or any junk foods growing up so if she were to find out what I had done I am most certain she would wag her arthritic finger in my face and curse me out politely in French until her head came off.
Alright so maybe I’m exaggerating but she would wag that boney old finger of hers and go on about how horrible I am to her after all she has done for me. That she loves me more than anything in the world and I need to abide to her rules even if I’m in another country.
Oh my stomach. That vile will never pass these lips ever again.
I am going to go enjoy a nice cigar and sit out on the grass in hopes my gurgling stomach will shut up.
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[26 May 2005|03:00pm] |
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mood |
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amused |
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music |
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Above the orange trees- perfect man |
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Please note I am not attending this dance with Cooper. In fact I was never planning on going to the dance in the first place, and I have not changed my mind on this matter.
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| On the second day he came with a single red rose |
[26 May 2005|05:46am] |
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mood |
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amused |
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music |
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Barber- adagio for strings |
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I really see no sense in writing about class when those who were there know what happened and most of the time it really was not anything that fascinating. There is the universally loathed English teacher who’s name I have neglected to remember.
Oh but here I am talking about class I learned the end.
When I went to the park the other day to study I found my table to be covered in bird shit.
I was extremely disappointed. I thought the birds and I had a mutual understanding, they don’t shit where I sit and I don’t eat them. Alas I was mistaken.
I sat on the grass which was not bad at all despite the fact that my rear end was wet when I got up, I thought I had noticed something uncomfortable.
There were no families at the park today, they have not been around for a few days another odd occurrence.
And a sad one at that I rather enjoyed the giggling screams of the children while I did my work.
My mind seems to be escaping me and I feel a bit guilty about not remembering my first encounter with Emily. Goodness I still can not get over the large amounts of bird excrement’s that were left all over the table. It is down right ridiculous, I swear its as if the damned birds did it just to move me to another location. Perhaps they are performing a psychological experiment and I have become their lab human
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[24 May 2005|07:25pm] |
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mood |
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 pissed off |
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music |
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Jack off Jill- Strawberry gashes |
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Oh I knew she was going to find out one way or another she did! I suppose its this damned schools doing. Going and telling my grandmother there is a dance! She took the time to write me a five page letter badgering me and explaining how if I do not put myself out there that no man will have me and that the enviable will happen. I will grow old, produce no children and die alone.
And all because of this my obsessive Grandmother buys me a dress!
Sometime I can’t decide which is worse, a mother who gives you up for money or a grandmother who only wants you to have money.
I should fall in love with a popper just to spite her and my mother. Marry a poor man but a good one who is a radical thinker, dark, and shows no respect for closed minded conforming woman who bend to the will of societies sexist social rolls!
Just to spite the two corrupt figures in my life.
My grandmother and mother would rather see me rich and unhappy then poor and happy.
What roll models for a young girl. Sometimes I truly wonder what my father would have made of all of this.
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[22 May 2005|03:44pm] |
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mood |
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amused |
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music |
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Rasputina- Hunters Kiss |
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George, that is it. Ms. Sand if you are feeling formal and Dupin if we are on extremely familiar terms, which would mean no one hear shall call me that. Nor Amantine, Aurore, or Lucile.
So George it is.
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[22 May 2005|09:32am] |
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mood |
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disappointed |
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music |
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Mozart- Carmina Burana- O Fortuna |
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I have such a cheery disposition. Classes here are alright I suppose for the most part. I don’t exactly talk to anyone and no one really talks to me. The party was a gathering of energy which I am certainly not used to.
After reading Mr. Lovecraft's post about his mother I began to think about my own. A sense of resentment and loathing came into mind, but in spite of it all I still love her. Call it naivety if you will or blind love, because love is certainly blind. I’m not quite sure where I was going with this. I wonder if I will get to see her this year. Every year four our holiday in winter grandmother would take me to Paris and I would see my mother, but lately she seems to want nothing to do with me. Mother seems to devote all her attention to my half sister Caroline. I can not help but resent that attention and yet I still love her. Oh god if only that woman could have kept her legs closed! I would not be in this battle between my heart and my head!
To hell with this I’m going to go down my home work.
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| pedo, ped- child, children |
[14 May 2005|11:21am] |
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mood |
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disappointed |
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music |
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Mozart-Don Giovanni - Batti, batti, o bel Masetto |
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I went to the park the previous day. There were not very many people a few families. The first family to arrive consisted of one man, I was assuming to be the father who had a nest of fiery red hair upon his pointed head, and three small children. There was one little boy and his hair was so blonde that it was white he was no more than four years old. He took off into the play structure and did not surface for air for the longest time.
The father did not seem to pay much attention to him or his other daughter who I would like to call Anna.
( under a cut, children abused what a wonderful world... )
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[12 May 2005|10:05am] |
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music |
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Led Zeppelin- Tea for one |
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I. Biology
II. Greek
III. Film Studies
(lunch)
IV. 18th//19th century history
V. Romantic and Victorian Poetry
VI. ILC (independent learning center)
There my schedule, wonderful no?
I really haven't the slightest idea as to what is to be done in "independent learning center" but its bound to be better than home economics. And this is all I have to say about that.
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[09 May 2005|09:40pm] |
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mood |
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calm |
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music |
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Mozart: Don Giovanni - Non Mi Dir, Bell'Idol Mio |
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Yes so right then. I should, I will try and get out more and talk with people.
I find it much more what would be an appropriate word, ah yes safe. I find it much more safe to carry on my own conversations with myself and the characters in my head.
As crazy as that might make me sound it is true.
Although it is quite difficult for me to ponder about the world when I so coldly cast it aside and stay away from it. When I make reference to the world I mean people. I love them its just that many I have met infuriate me. Hopefully these people will be different.
Now I do allow myself to leave my room but not to engage in conversation. The right moment has not presented its self yet for me to converse with anyone.
Well this is amazing I can go on about nothing forever about imaginary people but when I try to write about myself no words come. Perhaps that is just because I have nothing to report.
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_george_sand_'s journal