(no subject)
MUSICMUSIC
My name is: Roberta
My favorite genre of music is: Emo, indie, hipster, scene, underground, whatever.
My favorite band is: Tough call. I have a lot. Among them are Bright Eyes, the Dresden Dolls, and the Spill Canvas.
My favorite female artist is: Fiona Apple.
My favorite male artist is: Conor Oberst. Raise your hand if you saw that one coming.
The hottest artist in the world: Conor Oberst Iwanthim.
I hate: PARIS HILTON. Please do not pretend you have musical talent, kthx.
This band is played out: Fall Out Boy. No, I'm not just copying Sheila. They really are.
I used to love: Matchbox 20. I still do, but less.
My favorite song is: I'm currently obsessed with Landed, though that may pass. I also have a variety of favourite songs. Lust A Prima Vista, Spill Canvas. Demons, Guster. Never Is A Promise, Fiona Apple. 24 by Jem is a long-standing favourite.
My guilty pleasure song is: SOS by Rihanna. *shifty*
My favorite album is: Lifted, Or The Story Is In The Soil, Keep Your Ear To The Ground. Bright Eyes wins the Longest Superfluous Album Title award.
Does your favorite artist have a clothing design? Hahaha. No.
has your favorite singer/rapper ever been in a movie? Being the snob that I am, I'd hope my favourite artist is not that mainstream. love me some underground.
Have you seen your favorite artist in concert? ohoho yes. well, bright eyes. and I'm seeing the dresden dolls in OCTOBER WHOO.
From a scale of 1-10 how much do you love this artist/band? bright eyes and the dresden dolls? probably about a seven on bright eyes and eight for dresden dolls, actually.
I can rock out to this song: esta vida, by grasshopper takeover. GOT MAHSELF A TWENNY DOLLAH BILL I'M UNNA RAWKITON THROUUUUGH THE NIGHT, OKAY. YEEEEAH.
I can dance to this song: dance dance, by fall out boy. no irony intended.
This song has a catchy beat: long line of cars, by cake
I cried to this song: ahaha, I am such an emo kid. there are so many of these. please remember, leann rimes. didn't we love, tamara walker. the blower's daughter, damien rice. the luckiest, ben folds. breakaway, by kelly clarkson, but BEFORE YOU LAUGH AT ME. a kid in my highschool class had muscular dystrophy and died three months before graduation. because he wanted so badly and tried so hard to graduate, the dean, the principal, and the school board visited him in the hospital a week before he died and presented him with his diploma. at the talent show about a month later, a girl sang breakaway, and before she did, she gave a dedication to mikey. so it makes me cry.
I laughed when I heard this song: the jeep song, the dresden dolls.
I can listen to this song over and over again: slow like honey, fiona apple.
Because I clearly have nothing better to write about on my personal blog.
and now for something completely different. so sometimes I think that the world is totally different from how I percieve it. That maybe I'm hugely, obscenely obese and I only see myself the way I am; that everyone else sees me as I really am: some grotesque specimen too fat to climb the stairs. or that I'm really actually tone deaf, but I just think I'm dead on. because if I was tone deaf I wouldn't be able to tell if I was wrong, would I? so I'd think I had good pitch instead. Or, the most far-fetched to occur to me yet, that I'm actually mentally disabled; retarded, if you will, and that everyone around me is just too nice to treat me like it. these are things that I think about all the time and I really don't think that's normal. because then I remember that I can climb the stairs, and run and walk and exercise without issue, and that my friends laud me for my musical talent, and that I think with clarity and type this without issue. it's just one of those mind-twisters.
and while we're at it, here's another one. looking in front of me, I see the brown wood of the computer desk at the library. the black plastic of the monitor and computer and keyboard. the blue of the mouse pad, the green of the power light, the yellow of the printing notice. What if my yellow looked like green to someone else and red to yet again someone else? is this making sense? The grass is green. we all know that. green is green. but what if, to bob, green was my red? and we'd just both grown up calling it green because that's what everyone said? the grass was green, but it could look yellow or blue or hot pink and none of us would know the better, because the only way to define a colour is by what the colour defines.
I feel sorry for you if you actually read that last tidbit. I think I'm going insane.