Honestly, I never really liked The Beatles after hearing 'I am the Walrus' at a young age of 9. I loathed their songs that seemed to be eating marijuana leaves at every beat. I mean, yeah. Just listening to them during my 'tween' (ugh, I hate that term.) years made me absurdly skeptical about my illegal drug virginity. I remember claiming that I've sniffed angel dust through listening to Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds to my 5th grade classmates and conspicuously they believed every stupid word I said. Everybody hailed me as the cool queen, but some teacher snipped my druggie royalty off after sending me to the guidance counselor. Right on, right on.
But that was all before when I was still dumbfounded on what the hell love truly is, and what great and stupendous words John Lennon and Paul McCartney(Damn that cute face) shoved out of their brains to make such songs songwriters of today could only wish of. And now that I need to go through to one more year before I can be legal to everyone's eyes and minds, I fell in love with The Beatles. Just in the nick of..well..my generation, I guess.
This all started when Charlene asked me if she can use my ever-so-reliable-but-barely-used iPod for her Share-a-Book presentation in class. She then asked me to transfer the aforementioned song Lucy in The Sky With Diamonds to the device, because obviously, that's the song that she'll be using. I have this pesky habit of scrutinizing stuffs people give me to do something with it (Who the hell wouldn't, anyway? Granted of free access to criticize or to just simply read/listen/watch it, scrutinizing is simply the best thing you can do. Unless I promise people not to criticize it, I will do so.). That being said, I listened to the Beatle song until I can fully hum the whole song without, indeed, playing the song all over again. Let me just clear out that it wasn't my intention to do so, but it was..alright, fine. I intended to listen to it because I'm sort of tired of the same trashy songs blaring out of the radio.
And good Lord, did The Beatles nailed it, or what? Well actually, I think Paul McCartney alone nailed it with his face because, well, I'm such a biased bullcrap in terms of appearance, that's why nobody respects me and nobody should (Unless of course if I told you that you should because I'm good at fixing electric fans and whatnot. I'm egotistical in that way.). But the songs! The music! The lyrics! The harmony! Mama Mia! Jai Guru Deva Om!
It brought me great happiness after getting hold of the information (from no less than the website) that the contestants of the current season of the American Idol will be doing yet another rendition of the wonderful hits of The Beatles. I hope this time they would nail it, and David Archuleta would think twice before forgetting the lyrics of We Can Work It Out. But of course that's normal among young singers. I was just being, um, I don't know, really. Pseudoquasibitch, probably.
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Idol talk. Scram if you're no fan.
It's been a long time since I got a crush on someone who seems to very unreachable, no, impossible, probably. These days I would usually gush over somebody that's too feasible to reach, like our cute neighbor, or the personal trainer, or The Boy, with the latter still being too questionable for his own validity. If you've read my life during the summer of last year, you would actually know why. But then again, that's not important.
Because Jason Castro's the one who's important to me now.
God, I've never been such a huge fan-bitch before than I am now. Sure, his dreadlocks are kinda turning people off, but what the hell. Look up his version of If I Fell on YouTube and his weird yet very fanciful facial expressions will knock your panties off (that is, if you're wearing one. *insert a joke here that's as green as The Hulk*). And he sings like a damn angel! And guess what, I now believe in angels! Oh, you Colombian Hottie you.
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Post-graduation sucks.
Actually, the aftermath of anything big sucks. See, I can't really distinguish myself right now. Am I a former high school student? Am I a college student? Am I a lesbian? Sure, I've mentioned in my previous post that you call people who graduate from high school and about it to enter college immature, but I'm degrading myself too much. Yeah, so much for being so self-obsessed.
Anyways, did you know that the length of your index finger and ring finger do not only measure your testosterone level, nor the amount of male hormones you've absorbed when you're still so friggin innocent in your mom's womb, nor anything concerned with sperm nor whatever sexual thingamajig you might think off, but your personality as well?
See, if you have two X chromosomes and your ring finger is longer than your index finger, this implies that your testosterone level is high. Thus, this concludes that you more or less prefer to do the opposite sex's work. To cut the science shit short, you are manly in terms of your capability to do work and of course, personality. A woman's index and ring fingers are usually of same height.
This great discovery of course is hence a great proof of my inner machoness. After finding this out through Nat Geo Junior's Mad Labs, I heaved an 'I knew it' under my breath, because long before I even found out this crap, I was wondering why my ring finger's a lot longer than my index finger. I thought I was some sort of a special person, you know, like Claire Bennet and the rest of those freaks at Heroes. You'll never know, you'll never ever know.
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I so hate to say this, but I'm already missing high school.
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