music, sweet music

Goddamn it I demand to be your all.

Not your everything, but your all.

There’s a difference.

Not a rope, not a security blanket or that interesting print on your wall, but music. Sweet music. In other words, you could live without it, but it would be hard. 

I’m Goddamn music.

So turn up the volume.

Masaya: el club and the 50 cent book

A long lost friend of mine was going to be in Granada on Saturday so I decided to make the trek to see him. Going back south I planned on checking out Masaya for a day, in which I had heard that it was the place to go for any Nicaragua artisan necessity. Being that Masaya was only 30 minutes from Granada, I left a day early to go see what my American dollars could get me. After yet another dreaded transit I arrived in one piece in Masaya. The market was amazing. I shopped until I spent every last dollar and cordoba on me just as it was getting dark.

I pulled out the trusty Moon book to find the nearest hostel I could walk to. I found one that looked walking distance on the map and asked (in my newly acquired spanglish) a group of Nica's sitting outside a restaurant if they could point me in the right direction. They told me it was getting dark and that it wasn't safe to walk. Being that I had spent everything last type of currency on me, I asked for an ATM so I could grab a cab. The group looked at each other with concern and one of the men personally escorted me to the ATM. This made me a bit uneasy, but it turned out he was there to protect me. He put me in a cab and once again my heart melted at the fact I keep finding Nicaraguans that want to go out of their way to help me.
Apparently the only hostel in Masaya no longer exists, but a nice old women next to the once hostel offer me a room for $6 at her hotel named "Hotel California". The accommodation was of the $6 standard but the sheets were clean and I just wanted to sleep. At about 8pm pulsing Katy Perry and other variations of pop music flooded my room along with neon lights. I looked out the window to find "El Club" in full motion. It was a Friday night in Masaya and the locals were ready to "party like its the weekend". Damn.

At this point I realized I hadn't eaten dinner so I decided to find food. About a block into my wander, torrential downpour hit and I found myself taking refuge in the doorway of a bar, how convenient. The rain didn't stop so I took it a sign of fate and awkwardly drank a beer in the middle of five Nicaraguan dudes as the rain passed. I eventually found beloved street food and happily ate it on the steps of "Hotel California". I studied some Spanish, had some practice with el nino de la senora, took an ambien and eventually fell asleep to Brittany Spears and green lasers on my wall.
The next day I was eating breakfast and a young Nica claimed the chair next to me. Nicaraguans that can speak any English love to talk to white people and practice. So he blabbed as much as he could as I ate gallo pinto and then offered to be: mi guia para el dia. In every town I go to Nicaraguans seem to inform me I have them as a guide for cheap price. I always decline and then they change the line to mi amigo para un dia. I accepted my new friendship and told him of my on going search for a book in English. We grabbed some cokes and were off to find los libros en ingles. We went to a total of three book stores. During this process I was convinced that America uses Central America as a sort of garbage disposal. The Nicaraguan public buses are condemned school buses, some repainted and filled with dangling crosses and flags, some not repainted and the words "Boone Country School District" still in bold black letters reminding me that my source of transportation decades earlier is now my current source. To add to this handy down idea, plenty of "tiendas" sell clothes with goodwill price tags still on them. Now during my search for a book, the english books I was offered were 1990's tween books such as The Baby Sitter's Club and Goosebumps (which I considering for 3 seconds). Along with War and Peace that started at page 153 and Principles of Psychology volume 2. So, I'm pretty sure this is how it works: An American school bus is condemned and on its way down towards the Mexican border this bus stops at Goodwills and libraries along that way and takes whatever shit that us American's deem as unworthy and send it on down to Central America. Anyway, I somehow managed to find a book that seemed interesting, in english, all pages in-tacked and for 50 cents! Even among the odd organization concept of tienda de libros.

After the book success, Nelson and I went to the hammock factory, I bought one, we talked in half Spanish half English to the bus station, I bought him a banana and fanta to thank him and I was off to find my favorite Scottish man in Granada!

two bit

I want to blog so badly.
Blog absence in time of many blog topics is like the blue balls of the blog world.
I have so many things to say. Many photos to display. Along with revelations for the month of May.

But it shall wait.. 21 days until I take my last final ever. See you then blog world

I don't care if it's ugly, ITS VINTAGE!!!

Vintage: representing the high quality of a past time: vintage cars; vintage movies.
People of today and their the use of the word "vintage" makes me laugh a lot. Therefore.. this site makes me laugh a lot..

http://www.regretsy.com

For those of you who don't know, it's a site that makes fun of some losers on etsy.com trying to rip you off by simply using the word "vintage". Ok I'm done ranting now.

annoying university student #29

This annoys me beyond belief..

That person that goes out of their way to cover up their tests answers. I'm not annoyed because I want to copy you, I'm annoyed because it's an obvious sign of ego mania, stuck up and pretentious biology nerd (the uncool kind). If I were going to copy someone (which I would seriously never because academic dishonesty is NO joke), BUT if I would I wouldn't copy from you because you probably aren't that smart if you actually think people are trying THAT hard to copy your answers, you're kidding yourself.
......PS your three perfectly sharpened number 2 pencils, two erasers and brand new calculator occupying your entire desk space, is almost as annoying as you alone. Any person that actually feels like they actually might need three pencils and two erasers to take a 50 question test, should probably reevaluate how they actually go about taking this exam

Theres a few types..
- The type that JUST covers up their answers on the scantron with their calculator, test, arm etc. But it's not the whole scantron, its just the black bubbles, delicately covered up with a perfectly alined corner of an exam.
- The person that checks their answers by using their exam to cover up the bottom half of the scantron and using their hand to cover the top answers as they move in harmony down the 882-E green rectangle.
- When waiting in line to turn in their exam they wait in the corner, test held tight against their stomach, moving sideways against the wall until test-turn-in destination is met. Obviously this person thinks they have succeeded at a perfect score and not only does everyone know it in class, but if they give an opportunity, they will be tackled to the ground.
-By far the most obnoxious is Biology lab. When we rotate every 2 minutes and when finished you turn around facing the class room. Normal people hold their test sheet down by their side or look at their answers to check spelling, but the obnoxious biology nerd plasters the sheet of paper to their chest shoulders back, head high, eyes straight, with both hands covering every inch of the back side of the paper incase someone in the class can see through matter. This person usually answers their question with in 10 seconds and stands proud, hands on chest so tight that I assume they'll collapse if they move their firm grip.

Ps.. For kicks and giggles.. you definitely got #43 wrong. It's specialized transduction not generalized... idiot.

eff it

"Darcy, I just want to blow things up!!"

Darcy two hours later..

"Explosives will be here in 2-3 business days"

complete with an instruction dvd.

I never thought anger was a morning kinda thing, always thought anger was a kinda night thing. In situations where theres nothing I can do.. just blow stuff up at 8am, drink beer and snowboard. Opening day at the mountain.. it's a shit show up here and back to the groove of my mind clearing, soul cleansing sport. Just in time Mt.Hood, youre always good to me.

status

This is the first summer since high school that I am not at camp working as a summer camp counselor. Although it has been such an amazing experience at River Way and Sandy Hill camp, like everything in our lives there comes a time we have to move on and embark on new adventures. It's like high school, its what you make it. High school was great, but when I graduated, I moved on.

For the past 22 years of my life my life has generally been pretty structured. I went to school from September-June and camp in the summer. Of course there are always some bumps in the road that threw off my structure but I always had a schedule. Generally Tuesdays and Thursdays I had class from 1-8pm, I worked Mondays and Fridays, went snowboarding on Wednesdays and Sundays and out to the bars on Saturdays. I always took my finals early in June and off to camp I went until September and repeated the schedule. For the first time I'm not living off loan money or the comfort of Sandy Hill cabins and cafeteria food. I'm working a real job and living off my own money. I sound sheltered yea? I don't think so. There really isn't many people my age that pays for EVERYTHING by themselves. Sure I worked plenty of jobs and paid for my share of bills, but I have never been truly on my own. paying rent, food, gas etc all with my own money while trying to save for traveling. It's definitely scary, but liberating.

My point of this ramble isn't for you to give me a pat on the back for being an adult and working full time job to make the money necessary for sustaining my life and earning the money necessary for my desires. My point is that I am able to sit back and understand my place. Structure molds our minds into a type of narrow mind. I had my time to study for school and the people I did that with. People I snowboarded with on those Sundays and Wednesdays. People I went to the bars with on those Saturdays and of course camp and the life that came with it. I'm not down playing the amazing experiences I have had doing all these things, but realizing that there is so much more.

I can't even begin to cover every aspect of what I have learned about people in my life, but the word to some it up well is status. I thought by leaving my hometown of orange county and living in Oregon, home of the hippies and artsy liberal goo rues that I was escaping status. wrong. There's the pro snowboarders of mt. hood, the aspiring cinematographers of the Art Institute, the graphic designers of some artsy company, the PSU athletes and the list continues. I myself am guilty of status as well. My status at school and who I knew, my status on the mountain and who I knew and my status at camp and who I knew. I am only realizing this now when I have taken myself out of it. I feel a bit dirty to be honest, that something so surface snaked its way in my life without me knowing, how rude. Luckily I'm doing my best to shed out of it.

Funny thing happened a few months ago that changed my status...

Well, I dumped the snowboarder. Why? He got caught up in that status and with others who cared about the status. Girls who wanted to be in his life because the letters I and M was on his hat. "Friends" who only used each other for rides and a posse to show up to party's with. The long weekends to countless competitions with all the right people and sponsors. Can you guess what happened when we broke up? My status dropped :). The people who were more caught up in that nasty status dropped me like its hott. I was a bataleon riders girlfriend. So of course ms.Maui fever needed to be my friend and so did the friends girlfriends, even the 17 year olds. As soon as I wasn't the girlfriend, I was useless. I wasn't an in to that world anymore. Sad for those people who see it that way. I'm grateful I was slapped in the face of what type of people I attracted but it disgusts me at the same time to know those people exist. So many people were my "friend" because of who I was dating and who I knew because of that. They care so much of what people think about them they have to do, think and say what everyone else does, because god forbid sacrificing their status.

*I'm never dating a professional anything ever again.

No boys need apply, men only

I know it's a mix of anger and bitterness, but I have to get this out.

I am so sick of guys who are so incredibly surface, in personality, thought, beliefs, ideas, morals and most importantly.. LOOKS. It honestly disgusts me. First of all I absolutely hate it when guys call a girl "hott". A girl that's "hott" is Jessica Simpson or Pamula Anderson, girls with absolutely no substance and only boobs and a fit body to offer. On the other hand calling a girl pretty or cute implies more of an appreciation of how they present themselves as opposed to "I would love to fuck her". You BOYS think you're so clever too. Like you're going to sweep us off our feet with your pathetic charm. Here are a few examples..

-A guy I know from camp messages my friend Nancy (he doesn't know her) who yes, is attractive flirting with her saying shes hott blah blah blah, like shes going to drop everything because he finds her fuckable. So I am obviously friends with him on facebook to look at pictures of me and my friends.. ummm... deleted.

-This guy I have studied with a few times invites me out for his birthday, innocent, friendly gesture I thought, but he then confesses his love for me and I ask him why he likes me and I get "because you are the hottest fuckin girl ever". So charming!!

-My favorite is when I'm hanging out with a guy friend and their lame friends ask me "Hey Claire, do you have any hott friends?" Like oh, yea, you definitely deserve the presence of my friends. I'm definitely here to just auction off my friends to worthless pieces of crap like you, that ask for my "hott" friends because going back to the definition of the word, you really only want to fuck them. You don't want to know who they are, have a conversation or ever know their last name. Lets be serious.

There is so much more to me then a cute face and nice butt. I'm so tired of being looked at as prey. I have a brain, I value my intelligence, my morals, my beliefs, my family and friends. I don't find myself overly beautiful personally, but sometimes I wish I was more plain, because maybe then I would attract MEN (not boys) that respect women in all ways, for their beauty, mind and heart. There are definitely girls out there who ask for this type of negative attention by how they behave, dress and talk. But boys do not judge a book by its cover. There are plenty of us girls out there that happen to be pretty AND smart at the same time. What a damn concept?!