Activities: No one ACTUALLY reads this. ---------------------------------------------------- Choir Band Interests: ---------------------------------------------------- Saxophone... all of them...well I have an order though 1. Alto 2. Soprano 3. Bari 4.Tenor Music and making it Coffee, WATER, Tea (thats it) Rain/ When nothing important is planned Knitting with my Grandmother (ha) ---------------------------------------------------- Favorite Music: Chopin was a God (No Specific Order) Jean-Marie londeix Russell Peterson DongMin Lim Sigur Rós Boyz II Men Carlton Douglas Rockapella Mozart Kristin Chenoweth Danny Elfman Josh Groban Stevie Wonder Mickey Avalon Dido Whitney Houston Lil' Kim Billy Joel Imogen HeapFrou Frou John Williams Kanye West Dixie Chicks Heather Headley Paul Dukas Phillip Glass Elton John Samuel E Wright Missy Elliott Martha Argerich Alan Jackson Idina Menzel Regina Spektor Panic! At the Disco Tom Higgenson Eric Whitacre Garth Brooks Stephen Oremus Harvey Pittel Alan Silvestri Shania Twain Lesley Nelson-Burns Vienna Boys Choir Gerard Butler BYU Choir USC Choir Concordia Choir Timothy Takach R. Kelly Ralph Von Williams Z. Randall Stroope Tim Sarsany Emmy Rossum Alfred Brendel Louie Armstrong Yundi Li Beethoven Luciano Pavarotti Patrick Wilson Seal Tan Dun Alexandre Desplat John Legend Chris Brown Sarah Mclachlan Craig Brown Enya T-Pain Aarnoud de Groen Rafal Blechacz Leona Lewis Lil' Wayne Rhianna ---------------------------------------------------- Favorite TV Shows: Drawn Together Strangers With Candy Reno 911 HBO Documentaries ---------------------------------------------------- Favorite Movies: Who watches movies? the soundtrack is usually what I care about. I enjoy watching movies where I learn something Foreign Films usually have that effect...Not always happy Hollywood endings... ---------------------------------------------------- Favorite Books: Too many... way too many. aw hell (No Specific Order) • Me Talk Pretty One Day David Sedaris • Holidays On Ice David Sedaris • Dress Your Family In Corduroy & Denim David Sedaris • Barrel Fever David Sedaris • Naked David Sedaris • Children Playing Before a Statue of Hercules David Sedaris • White Oleander Janet Fitch • Still Life With Woodpecker Tom Robbins • Stranger Than Fiction Chuck Palahniuk • Haunted Chuck Palahniuk • Invisible Monsters Chuck Palahniuk • Diary Chuck Palahniuk • Fight Club Chuck Palahniuk • Memoirs Of A Geisha Arthur Golden • Odyssey Of Homer Richmond Lattimore • Walden & Civil Disobedience Henry-David Thoreau • A Farewell To Arms Ernest Hemingway • On Writing Well William Zinsser • Brave New World Aldous Huxley • 1984 George Orwell • Night Elie Wiesel • SOLD Patricia McCormick • Adventures Of Huckleberry Fin Mark Twain • Running With Scissors Augusten Burroughs • Dry Augusten Burroughs • Magical Thinking Augusten Burroughs • Possible Side-Effects Augusten Burroughs • Walking Through Clear Water In A Pool Painted Black Cookie Mueller • Mr. Brown Can Moo! Can You? Dr. Seuss • The Secret Life Of Bees Sue Monk Kid • Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex! Explained! David Reuben • The Divinci Code Dan Brown • Why Is Everyone So Cranky??? C. Leslie Charles • The Apostles Y. Blak Moore • To Kill A Mocking Bird Harper Lee • A Million Little Pieces James Frey ---------------- Favorite Quotes: "I think your crazy"-My sister "Well I think your a fucking bitch"- my mother Why would anyone fuck a retarded person? -my mother "Im pretty sure the first woman president is going to be assassinated...and I don't care. Because she is going to deserve it."-My sister Would you mind shutting the fuck up for once kc?....Jesus Christ. (yes son, you sure as shit do talk a lot...Give us a break) -Grandma& (Grandpa) me>mom, the tylenol cold and flu isnt working... Her> well you sound a little bit better... me>yeah but thats because i've been drinking water and eating carrots her> well, I dont know what to tell you case....carrots dont cure the fucking flu.. but you'll be able to hop before long... "the only problem with that peformance was that it wasn't me" -me (being envious) (My mother talking about the mexican woman taking our order at taco cabana and then referencing my mexican step father) "That's too much fucking accent for me in the morning...you know? It's like... I don't even talk to George this early" "Every war when it comes, or before it comes, is represented not as a war but as an act of self-defense against a homicidal maniac." George Orwell "But if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought." George Orwell CRANK Ellen Hopkins Funny thing, your brain, how it always functions on one level or another. How, even stuck in some sort of subconcious limbo, it works your lungs, your muscle twitches, your heart, in fact, in symphony with your heart, allowing it to feel love. Pain. Jealousy. Guilt. I wonder if it’s the same for people, lost in comas. Is there really such a thing as brain death? ---------------------------------------------------- About Me: I don't even know... What I do know is that there are a number of piano songs I'd like to learn before I die; (Not in any specific order) Polonaise N°6 l'heroique Balakirev Islamey Chopin "Fantasie" Impromptu, Op. 66 Sonata Pathetique One fun little fact... My mom was born in 55' my dad was born in 44' My mom was 33 when she had me my dad was 44 I was born in 88 outside city limits ---------------------------------------------------- I love poetry. After Death By: Christina Rossetti The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay, Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept. He leaned above me, thinking that I slept And could not hear him; but I heard him say: “Poor child, poor child:” and as he turned away Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept. He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold That hid my face, or take my hand in his, Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head: He did not love me living; but once dead He pitied me; and very sweet it is To know he still is warm though I am cold. You Fucking Cunt They kept the relationship fresh by greeting each other with "Hello you fucking cunt." Each morning she would tape notes to his windshield saying that he was the product of a rape and so was his mother and both her parents. He would wrap her parrot in kite string, stick it in a bowl of guacamole up to its neck and teach it to say, "Is that your nipple or a scab?" and "Your dreams are paltry bullshit." The idea was that this hostility would eradicate the frustrations of living in this large smelly rectum that surrounds us, that one day they could embrace, unite in serene bliss, juices and bloods relocating, salivary glands glancing, with a music box shaped like love sitting on the night table playing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head." And the rain did come; it came in torrents, drenching their lawn and dripping through their leaky roof while they called each other fucking cunts. The abuse gave them confidence and a sense that they weren't like everyone else, that they would not fit into any demographical survey, they couldn't be descried in any intersection of columns. He would send Hare Krishnas and Jehovah's Witnesses over when her favorite television program was on; she wrote his work number on toilet seats frequented by the S&M bondage crowd. for twenty years they diligently thought up new ways to belittle in sickness and in health, then one day they got into a battle and knocked each other out, peacefully crumpled unconscious and bruised on the floor, dreaming of the morning when kindness would be the only thing left to give. Eric Brown