Overexposure • oh-ver-ik-spo-zher
Latin
-noun
1. excessive exposure.
2. the condition of having been seen or heard so frequently that the value and/or appeal is diminshed.
The simplest, tiniest little things can tear you from the people you once loved.
God, it blows when you don't want to talk to someone just because you've seen them much too often lately. It's not their fault, it's not anyones fault. It's just obnoxious as hell when fights are getting started over nothing, but are escalated because you're sick of each other. What's worse is sometimes it makes you take breaks. Long, long breaks from talking to certain people, just because you've had too much of them at one time.
I need a break. Just a little one, but a break, please.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Uniquely
Ok, get ready for an extremly conceited rant. I'm talking huge amounts of egotastic, judgemental bullshit. But it's what's on my mind, so here it comes.
Here's the dealio: I have many friends who like to sing. All of these friends really do have pretty voices, and they understand music theory and have decent intonation and can all sing very nicely. Almost all of these friends are looking to pursue careers on Broadway and such, which is a perfectly fine dream to have. However, it seems like it's only a realistic career choice for maybe 3 of my friends.
Here's where the whole ego thing comes in: I like to sing too... but I honestly don't want to pursue a career in showbiz. And If I do ever end up on Broadway or something, it'll be as a make up artist or lighting designer. The ironic bit is that out of all of my friends with nice, pretty singing voices, I know my voice is by far the most developed and dynamic. Yeah, I know when I put it like that it makes me sound incredibly big-headed.
But my voice just has that edge and strength and warmth in its tone to make it really unique. It's not that my friends' voices are bad, because that's not the case at all, and as I said earlier, they're all incredibly talented. But if I were to record all of them singing a song at once, not a single one of their voices would stand out. They all just sort of sound the same; a sweet, typical voice with a tiny bit of vibratto in a cute little chirpy soprano range.
I guess the extremely conceited point I'm getting to is that if you want your work to be noticed, it has to be unique and impactful. Dimensional talent stands out, because there is potential for greatness. 'Nice' talent is 'nice' and will never be anything more than 'nice'. I hate to be the primma-donna bitch and be all "my voice is better then yours" because I love my friends, and I really do think they can go far, just not necassarily in the feild of singing. Hell, I know I'm going to go far and it most definitely will NOT be as a singer.
I love to sing, just like I love to dance and draw and blog about my ridiculously boring life, but singers, dancers, artists, and bloggers are a-dime-a-dozen. There are bajillions of us, all craving a little recognition in some way or another. We continue to do what we do because, let's be straight up, we're good at it and we really enjoy it. But it takes someone truly unique and amazingly talented to actually have a successful career in the arts.
Blahhh. Yeah I feel like a superbitch now. Peace out...
Here's the dealio: I have many friends who like to sing. All of these friends really do have pretty voices, and they understand music theory and have decent intonation and can all sing very nicely. Almost all of these friends are looking to pursue careers on Broadway and such, which is a perfectly fine dream to have. However, it seems like it's only a realistic career choice for maybe 3 of my friends.
Here's where the whole ego thing comes in: I like to sing too... but I honestly don't want to pursue a career in showbiz. And If I do ever end up on Broadway or something, it'll be as a make up artist or lighting designer. The ironic bit is that out of all of my friends with nice, pretty singing voices, I know my voice is by far the most developed and dynamic. Yeah, I know when I put it like that it makes me sound incredibly big-headed.
But my voice just has that edge and strength and warmth in its tone to make it really unique. It's not that my friends' voices are bad, because that's not the case at all, and as I said earlier, they're all incredibly talented. But if I were to record all of them singing a song at once, not a single one of their voices would stand out. They all just sort of sound the same; a sweet, typical voice with a tiny bit of vibratto in a cute little chirpy soprano range.
I guess the extremely conceited point I'm getting to is that if you want your work to be noticed, it has to be unique and impactful. Dimensional talent stands out, because there is potential for greatness. 'Nice' talent is 'nice' and will never be anything more than 'nice'. I hate to be the primma-donna bitch and be all "my voice is better then yours" because I love my friends, and I really do think they can go far, just not necassarily in the feild of singing. Hell, I know I'm going to go far and it most definitely will NOT be as a singer.
I love to sing, just like I love to dance and draw and blog about my ridiculously boring life, but singers, dancers, artists, and bloggers are a-dime-a-dozen. There are bajillions of us, all craving a little recognition in some way or another. We continue to do what we do because, let's be straight up, we're good at it and we really enjoy it. But it takes someone truly unique and amazingly talented to actually have a successful career in the arts.
Blahhh. Yeah I feel like a superbitch now. Peace out...
Friday, June 25, 2010
Dear Cassi,
I made a picture of you. At first it was just pencil and it looked really good. The I added colors. Now I don't know if it's good or not. The thing is, I really want you to like it, so Imma show it to you the next time we hang out, and if you don't like it I'll make a new one and it'll just be in pencil. So yeah.
Love,
Julia
I made a picture of you. At first it was just pencil and it looked really good. The I added colors. Now I don't know if it's good or not. The thing is, I really want you to like it, so Imma show it to you the next time we hang out, and if you don't like it I'll make a new one and it'll just be in pencil. So yeah.
Love,
Julia
I'm watching Pulp Fiction.
I like the part where the dude starts quoting the bible then shoots the other guy. I don't know why, but it's super scary.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Do you see or do you know?
I'm thinking I'm going to bleach my hair again just so it's super duper platinum for summer. I'm probably not gonna do anything to it for a while after that. I can't put henna in my hair like I was planning because henna+bleach=green hair. Not so great :(
Anyway, since I have this month off from cheer, I think I'm going to get my nails done because I know I won't ruin them at practice.
So basically, after this/next weekend, I'm going to be a super blonde girl with acrylic nails. I'm a cheerleader and I'm skinny and I say "like" too much. I realized that I'm going to look like a walking steriotype. Because when people see me, they're immediately going to jump to several conclusions:
-I have blonde hair, therefore I am stupid.
-I have fake nails, therefore I spend massive amounts of money on my appearance.
-I am a cheerleader, therefore I am shallow.
-I'm skinny, therefore I have an eating disorder.
-I say "like" too much, therefore I cannot have a good conversation.
-I'm pretty, therefore I have low self-esteem.
What everyone who will judge me doesn't know is that I speak 4 languages, read Shakespeare for fun, listen to heavy metal, constantly make referrences to Star Trek and Doctor Who, buy most of my clothes off the clearance racks and from thrift stores, enjoy having philosophical debates, and bake amazing cookies.
Yes, I am a self centered slut sometimes. But who isn't? Everyone is constantly thinking about themselves. Most people really care about their appearance. I look the way I look, I dress the way I dress, and I do whatever I do for me. The only person's approval I need is my own. I'm not going to say "I honestly don't care what people think of me" because that's lying. But I don't kill myself to try to fit it, or to gain other's approval.
I see my appearance and what I do with it as a form of self expression. The crazy make up I wear is my way of showing how I feel. I'm blonde because I got bored with dark hair. I get my nails done because I find it relaxing and efficient. I'm a cheerleader because I have fun being one. I am a confident person, and I do lack modesty a lot of the time.
But I am not what people assume me to be. It's ok by me for people to look at me and judge me, because odds are I'm looking and judging right back. And no, I don't give everyone a chance, nor do I expect everyone to give me a chance. But if you do give me a chance, I guarantee after one conversation with me, you won't think I'm a shallow little slut anymore.
Anyway, since I have this month off from cheer, I think I'm going to get my nails done because I know I won't ruin them at practice.
So basically, after this/next weekend, I'm going to be a super blonde girl with acrylic nails. I'm a cheerleader and I'm skinny and I say "like" too much. I realized that I'm going to look like a walking steriotype. Because when people see me, they're immediately going to jump to several conclusions:
-I have blonde hair, therefore I am stupid.
-I have fake nails, therefore I spend massive amounts of money on my appearance.
-I am a cheerleader, therefore I am shallow.
-I'm skinny, therefore I have an eating disorder.
-I say "like" too much, therefore I cannot have a good conversation.
-I'm pretty, therefore I have low self-esteem.
What everyone who will judge me doesn't know is that I speak 4 languages, read Shakespeare for fun, listen to heavy metal, constantly make referrences to Star Trek and Doctor Who, buy most of my clothes off the clearance racks and from thrift stores, enjoy having philosophical debates, and bake amazing cookies.
Yes, I am a self centered slut sometimes. But who isn't? Everyone is constantly thinking about themselves. Most people really care about their appearance. I look the way I look, I dress the way I dress, and I do whatever I do for me. The only person's approval I need is my own. I'm not going to say "I honestly don't care what people think of me" because that's lying. But I don't kill myself to try to fit it, or to gain other's approval.
I see my appearance and what I do with it as a form of self expression. The crazy make up I wear is my way of showing how I feel. I'm blonde because I got bored with dark hair. I get my nails done because I find it relaxing and efficient. I'm a cheerleader because I have fun being one. I am a confident person, and I do lack modesty a lot of the time.
But I am not what people assume me to be. It's ok by me for people to look at me and judge me, because odds are I'm looking and judging right back. And no, I don't give everyone a chance, nor do I expect everyone to give me a chance. But if you do give me a chance, I guarantee after one conversation with me, you won't think I'm a shallow little slut anymore.
Whew.
I was a cheer camp.
I had fucking blast.
I met some gorgoeus and amazingly talented girls.
I played truth or dare and learned some things about some of my teammates.
I jumped and stunted and spirited.
I booty-popped and did the cupid shuffle at a mini dance party on the lawn in front of the dorms.
I learned about a million new cheers and combos.
I helped my team win an inflatable banana, which totally made my life.
I wore bows in my hair.
I tied symbolic red string to my shoe.
I owned each and every performance we did, and there were several.
I smiled like a barbie on speed.
I am now exhausted as hell :)
I had fucking blast.
I met some gorgoeus and amazingly talented girls.
I played truth or dare and learned some things about some of my teammates.
I jumped and stunted and spirited.
I booty-popped and did the cupid shuffle at a mini dance party on the lawn in front of the dorms.
I learned about a million new cheers and combos.
I helped my team win an inflatable banana, which totally made my life.
I wore bows in my hair.
I tied symbolic red string to my shoe.
I owned each and every performance we did, and there were several.
I smiled like a barbie on speed.
I am now exhausted as hell :)
Friday, June 18, 2010
Dear Julia,
Here we are again, 4 am and you're awake. And apparently on the internet. You really should stop kidding yourself, no one is going to answer texts or facebook messages when they're asleep, LIKE YOU SHOULD BE. But seeing as this is essentially your thrid post of the day even though it's tomorrow now, I think we can assume that you have no life anyway. Especially not a social life. Anyway, you need to stop checking this blog for comments every 3 hours, and you need to stop reading through the entire news feed on facebook. Just sayin.
Love,
Julia
PS: f y/m/o l.
Here we are again, 4 am and you're awake. And apparently on the internet. You really should stop kidding yourself, no one is going to answer texts or facebook messages when they're asleep, LIKE YOU SHOULD BE. But seeing as this is essentially your thrid post of the day even though it's tomorrow now, I think we can assume that you have no life anyway. Especially not a social life. Anyway, you need to stop checking this blog for comments every 3 hours, and you need to stop reading through the entire news feed on facebook. Just sayin.
Love,
Julia
PS: f y/m/o l.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
"Story of my life"
2 posts in one day again, Julia? You're weak.
Actually you just have no life.
Ok, getting to the point, I just read a post on Kassandra's Bees Knees blog and I thought "story of my life." because there was a lot in that single post that I could relate to a lot. I wanted to comment, but I didn't really have anything to say that wouldn't seem attention whore-y. I mean, I hate when you're pissed and you talk to someone and they totally turn the attention to themselves, like "oh yeah my life is soooo horrible too, give me attention even though I should be the one talking you out of severe depression" or something so I didn't want to do that.
Anyway, I read this post, thought "story of my life" and then thought "dude, what if my life was a story?". Sometimes I feel like it is, like whenever random cliche crap happens, or I find myself narrating in my mind. Then again, if my life were a story, I think the author probably would have had enough sense to make me British and not friggin American. But honestly, from all this blogging shenanegans I can definitely see the appeal of writing an autobiography. Not that I would ever write one, my life is wayyy to lame, and I'm not a famous politician, so yeah...
gahhh I have no life today.
Actually you just have no life.
Ok, getting to the point, I just read a post on Kassandra's Bees Knees blog and I thought "story of my life." because there was a lot in that single post that I could relate to a lot. I wanted to comment, but I didn't really have anything to say that wouldn't seem attention whore-y. I mean, I hate when you're pissed and you talk to someone and they totally turn the attention to themselves, like "oh yeah my life is soooo horrible too, give me attention even though I should be the one talking you out of severe depression" or something so I didn't want to do that.
Anyway, I read this post, thought "story of my life" and then thought "dude, what if my life was a story?". Sometimes I feel like it is, like whenever random cliche crap happens, or I find myself narrating in my mind. Then again, if my life were a story, I think the author probably would have had enough sense to make me British and not friggin American. But honestly, from all this blogging shenanegans I can definitely see the appeal of writing an autobiography. Not that I would ever write one, my life is wayyy to lame, and I'm not a famous politician, so yeah...
gahhh I have no life today.
Grawrr
I discovered I really like using this face :3
I don't know why.
So Pearl was lovely :)
I kept getting checked out by people walking by because I wore my homecoming dress from last year (which has gotten shorter and tighter I suppose) and combat boots and had just gotten a haircut, so I felt pretty bangin, which is nice.
Cassi looked so adorable in her little jean shorts.
We walked around and looked at stores and Cassi fell in love with some purple tights from Urban.
We had some legit sushi.
I saw my ex. He was playing Saxaphone for money. I don't know why I capitalized Saxaphone. Anyway we said hi and it was slightly awkward but that's ok because at least he smiled when he saw me.
Seeing him messed with my head a little, cuz I just recently finally got over him, and seeing him again threw me for a loop, but it's all good.
Onward and upward.
Yesterday, I went swimming, then hung out at my friends house cuz I got locked out of mine...
We listened to Linkin Park and thought of 8th grade.
I had a really shittastic practice for cheer yesterday though. The coach stopped us in the middle of running our routine and was like "what's wrong?" And that pissed me off. Because not only was there not much constructiveness to that, but it was humiliating, and because of that little comment I'm pretty sure a lot of my teammates have started questioning whether I deserve to be on the team or not. And If I'm good enough to perform the routine on Monday. I'm working really hard, and I know I'm by far not the best dancer on the team. But I'm dealing with switching from glasses to contacts (which, when you're as blind as I am, really, really screws with your depth perception), and having to basically erase 7 years of classical ballet technique and rewrite my muscle memory, and try to remember choreography that was added while I was in China, all while smiling even though I'm way self-conscious of my teeth and smiling is hard to do when you just want to cry because you're embarassed and stressed on top of everything else.
Yeah...
Sorry about the mini-rant there..
Anyway, hopefully today will be better.
I don't know why.
So Pearl was lovely :)
I kept getting checked out by people walking by because I wore my homecoming dress from last year (which has gotten shorter and tighter I suppose) and combat boots and had just gotten a haircut, so I felt pretty bangin, which is nice.
Cassi looked so adorable in her little jean shorts.
We walked around and looked at stores and Cassi fell in love with some purple tights from Urban.
We had some legit sushi.
I saw my ex. He was playing Saxaphone for money. I don't know why I capitalized Saxaphone. Anyway we said hi and it was slightly awkward but that's ok because at least he smiled when he saw me.
Seeing him messed with my head a little, cuz I just recently finally got over him, and seeing him again threw me for a loop, but it's all good.
Onward and upward.
Yesterday, I went swimming, then hung out at my friends house cuz I got locked out of mine...
We listened to Linkin Park and thought of 8th grade.
I had a really shittastic practice for cheer yesterday though. The coach stopped us in the middle of running our routine and was like "what's wrong?" And that pissed me off. Because not only was there not much constructiveness to that, but it was humiliating, and because of that little comment I'm pretty sure a lot of my teammates have started questioning whether I deserve to be on the team or not. And If I'm good enough to perform the routine on Monday. I'm working really hard, and I know I'm by far not the best dancer on the team. But I'm dealing with switching from glasses to contacts (which, when you're as blind as I am, really, really screws with your depth perception), and having to basically erase 7 years of classical ballet technique and rewrite my muscle memory, and try to remember choreography that was added while I was in China, all while smiling even though I'm way self-conscious of my teeth and smiling is hard to do when you just want to cry because you're embarassed and stressed on top of everything else.
Yeah...
Sorry about the mini-rant there..
Anyway, hopefully today will be better.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Lucky Today
That's a song by Cloud Cult that I definitely think you should listen to if you want to start the day with good vibes. That's what I want to do :3 It's 5 am, but seeing as I actually got some sleep tonight, (a whole 6 hours!! take that, jet lag!) I'm feeling optimistic towards the day to come.
Here's a rough idea of what my day will be like. I don't really know why I'm mapping it out, I guess it's just so that even if stuff doesn't happen, at the end of the day I can draw comparison between what I thought would happen and what actually happened.
7am - cheer practice :P
11am - finish Cassi's portrait
1pm - haircut!
3ishpm - Go to Pearl with Cassi, hang out till whenever:)
11pm - eat chocolate icecream
Today just feels like it's going to be one of those days when you smile a lot.
Here's a rough idea of what my day will be like. I don't really know why I'm mapping it out, I guess it's just so that even if stuff doesn't happen, at the end of the day I can draw comparison between what I thought would happen and what actually happened.
7am - cheer practice :P
11am - finish Cassi's portrait
1pm - haircut!
3ishpm - Go to Pearl with Cassi, hang out till whenever:)
11pm - eat chocolate icecream
Today just feels like it's going to be one of those days when you smile a lot.
Monday, June 14, 2010
"Yeah? Well, fuck it."
Oh dear, 2 posts in one day. Not good. But I suddenly just got incredibly angry at several things at once.
#1 Fuck jet lag. Chinaaaa I hate you now. Because I have practice at 7 fucking am and its currently 1:30am and I am wide awake.
#2 Fuck lysdexia. See what I did there? I work very hard to keep my writing readable. I have to work even harder to spell shit write.
#3 Fuck old senile hypocrites. Not gonna go into details on that one...
#4 Fuck my pretty blonde hair. I'm sick of pretty. Thank Rocket-Jesus I'm getting it all chopped up in 2 days.
#5 Fuck Coco Puffs. Reeces Puffs are infinitely better.
#6 Fuck my inability to speak eloquently. I can write like some Oxford grad, but when I talk I sound like a high surfer.
#7 Fuck summer romance. And any prospect of having one.
Goddammit. I am so frustrated with the state of things right now. I'm ready to punch a small animal.
#1 Fuck jet lag. Chinaaaa I hate you now. Because I have practice at 7 fucking am and its currently 1:30am and I am wide awake.
#2 Fuck lysdexia. See what I did there? I work very hard to keep my writing readable. I have to work even harder to spell shit write.
#3 Fuck old senile hypocrites. Not gonna go into details on that one...
#4 Fuck my pretty blonde hair. I'm sick of pretty. Thank Rocket-Jesus I'm getting it all chopped up in 2 days.
#5 Fuck Coco Puffs. Reeces Puffs are infinitely better.
#6 Fuck my inability to speak eloquently. I can write like some Oxford grad, but when I talk I sound like a high surfer.
#7 Fuck summer romance. And any prospect of having one.
Goddammit. I am so frustrated with the state of things right now. I'm ready to punch a small animal.
Blank Book
In a little hidden marketplace full of crumbly brick buildings and alleyways with clotheslines hanging across them, with tight cobblestone streets and tiny shops and stands all packed with bohemian gold, I found a blank book. It was bound like an actual book you would read, exept its pages were completely bank, devoid of even lines for filling. I was sure someone probably left it and forgot it, so I took it home with me.
The little book is pretty in an odd sort of way, with creamy tan pages and a little red chinese stamp on the back cover. I'm in love with it.
I guess it's my own damn fault for seeing a lonely blank book and immediately picturing the endless possibilities for what could fill its pages, and worse that sudden need to fill those pages myelf. But most terrible of all is that there are so many ideas buzzing around my head, I don't actually know what this blank book's destiny is to be.
Suggestion?
The little book is pretty in an odd sort of way, with creamy tan pages and a little red chinese stamp on the back cover. I'm in love with it.
I guess it's my own damn fault for seeing a lonely blank book and immediately picturing the endless possibilities for what could fill its pages, and worse that sudden need to fill those pages myelf. But most terrible of all is that there are so many ideas buzzing around my head, I don't actually know what this blank book's destiny is to be.
Suggestion?
Friday, June 11, 2010
Mmmm.... Pidgeon stomachs.
Picture time!! I don't really feel like explaining all of these... although I may share a story or two later... but for now I'm getting over jet lag :P
Shanghai was amazing. Absolutely fantastic.
Shanghai was amazing. Absolutely fantastic.
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