What Became Known as the Early Years

It's got to start working.

I am currently blogging. After getting a meer six hours of sleep...maybe less. Watching Inuyasha with my mom. Because we've both been up since four for no good reason. I hate not sleep.

That's right. If you aren't sleep, I hate you. Aren't conditionals fun? No. They're not sleep. I hate them.

Sleepless, sleepless, sleepless. So o sleepy. Suck. This sucks. My eyes are rambling at me. Soo exhausted. I know eyes.

Ummm. Who are you again?

Writing Jackie's stand-ups. Morgan's outside shooting. Toying with the fantastic idea of starting yoga lessons. Wish I could do it twice a week. Poor. Pooooor.

Tomorrow is Halloween, yes? Are you excited? I hope you aren't planning to do anything stupid. I'm holidaying in the club. Hoping to make some extra cash. Halloween is confusing. Not important. Chance for me to dress like...like anything.

I am eating Spicy Thai with Basil in...2 hours and 48 minutes. It's been a month. That is soo very long. I miss it. I do, I do, I do-ooo. I'm really antsy. I'm driving you crazy. I'm waiting to cruise. I'm poor. I'm rich in spirit. I'm wishing never o'clock was here. I'm thinking you've got it wrong.

Make good choices.
Lock your doors when it comes around Easter time. Cause he'll take your souls. I mean, he'll do it. I've seen him punch a child one time.

Emily

Blogging from journalism again. Isn't Hamilton sweet? Letting me burn 9 dvds in her stead. She's had a rough couple days.

I miss Strahmae. A lot. More than you guys could really, really know. 8th grade is simple. Simple. I could teach it. We could hang. Let me let you know when my coherency returns. I fear it. Like this. Like...

Like I have to call Jam for Jackie. Mmm. If I could just eat some rice maybe I'd understand myself better, but that was crazy. Aren't I just?
The blogosphere is dangerous. Not for people like Caroline..or Emilea. For me. Me makes not sense because it feels foreign. Not bad. It doesn't feel bad.

Someone stop me before I waste my life on this thing.

Still fasting,
Awaiting your email,
Trying not to use substitute words,
Hoping you're well,
Ending this,
Emily

But my mind is clouded by urbanoutfitters and poorness and procrastination.

Will work for money.

Life is scary. I'm shoving my guard down. Welcome to happiness. My swift apologies to Emilea, who I care for deeply and wish I could return email appropriately but there are a jillion things I need to do and as much as I need to...I'm not doing them. Obviously.
I'm blogging.
It's not eating my life yet. Promise.

In Kentucky for the weekend,
fasting the l-word, hope you're well,
not fasting copy and paste,
miss all, miss dearly,
*remembers content stomach noises*
Emily

"When we are married, will you dance with me? I find dancing very agreeable......why can you not say what is in your head?"

"Why can you not stop saying what is in yours? Why must you lead, when I want to lead? If I want to dance I will ask you to dance. If I want to speak I will open my mouth and speak. Everyone is forever plaguing me to speak further. Why? What good is it to tell you you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying that I sometimes cannot think clearly or do my work properly? What gain can rise of my telling you the only time I feel fear as others do is when I think of you in harm? That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker. I fear for your safety before all others.
And yes, I will dance with you on our wedding night."

I got my phone taken away. Not just now. A couple months ago. So I am here, with Hamilton, talking about that wreck at Upstate yesterday. I hope that lady's okay.

I find myself wondering why this school year is sucking so hard for me. I don't understand. I don't remember what it feels like to have a good day at school. Maybe I am having one and I just don't know it. Everything feels off...I know why, but you don't. And it's going to stay that way till we work ourselves out.

I'm not tired. I just really need to get out of here. This place is draining me of all my self. I could get it back if I could just sail or visit the beach. Something warm...or really cold.

I'm not ready for the rest of broadcasting to come back. Just got the door for Coleman.

I wish:
I lived somewhere else.
I were a better sport.
I didn't get angry so easily.
the situation were getting better.

Heart.

I'm exhausted. I'm ridiculous. I'm having trouble understanding that you have to give sleep to get sleep.

Trying to keep the blog exciting. Questioning whether or not Emilea will ever join. Questioning whether or not Emilea still exists.

Not to bore you, but I feel the need to talk about Sufjan Stevens s'more. Dear Sufjan, who makes me think when I'm at wit's end...who colors my cheeks and brings out my dimples, who plays in the background of my brightest moments. I count the days the great frontier forgiving face the seventh year.

Everything is going to be alright. Now, I need to talk about living independently. It's fantastic, may I say. Mom's always off. Dad's working in Tennessee. We won't talk about the other, but as weird and odd and abnormal as it is, I'm really enjoying myself. Except the times when I get scared all alone in my house, I'm living well. Enjoying life.
I'm going to talk about the fast too. (oh yes, a fast!) But I think I'm announcing it on facebook first. woo hoo.

Hope everyone is having a period of bele chere as well.
Wishing you well,
Emily

To tell you the truth, I have no idea these days.

I'm at home. Sleepy. Exams tomorrow. Going to get a C in orchestra.

My other half's at college. I'm drowning.

Jason Holden is killing me. Slowly killing me.

What else is new? But wait! Now you get a fun Emily and a squishy Emily for the price of one. Gosh, I hate being full. Drives me crazy.



So, last night Craig picked muh up and we went to the Divide the Sea CD release show (-> screamo, screamo, screamoness by the bye) which was ridiculous and the only band I really liked was the last one we saw because the lead singer was fantastic. Great voice and he was passionate. It was nice. But the real highlight of my night was listening to Craig's stories. I swear, I call into question the truthfulness of every crazy thing he tells me, but, in the end, I'm almost guaranteed to be doubled over laughing. It was pretty (I swear I hate using this word so much. it's lost all its flavor) awkward because neither of us thought to bring anyone. Well, actually Craig tried calling tons of people without any luck.
"I have to clean my house, Craig."
"Hanging out with my parents, Craig."
"Sorry Craig, I have to wash my hair."
"Didn't I tell you, Craig? I don't believe in music."
Needless to say, futile attempts. But I'm glad I went.



Other perks of going to but not getting to see Divide the Sea:

-saw Katherine a.k.a Kat a.k.a.treehugger, Sarah, David a.k.a Kat's Boyfriend, and met this kid named David Allen.

-saw Luke and Michael Wright. hung out with Luke.

-sat on the awesome bcm couches (they're just great)

And....drumroll..........
Craig won a guitar!!!!!

Isn't that crazy? They had this raffle going for it, and...I don't know...we left (Craig's curfew=11) and he got a call from his friend Sarah (pretty sure that's her name) saying that he won. Also, a tad ironic because earlier that night he'd told me about how he'd vowed his eternal destiny to being a rockstar in 6th grade and he kept a journal with song lyrics and things. But that's probly a lie. Or..I really don't know anymore.

That's the real title.

1. Emmy Rossum is like 12.

2. Wasn't he like 30something when she was "studying in the ballet dormitories" as a child.

3. Raul is a wuss.
I don't know what that has to do with anything, though.

Creepiness. Anyways, I've had an exceptional week. Ready for fall. Joining Craig for screamoness this evening. Woop? Need a false mustache. Got nothing. Settle for $7 entrance fee.

I despise altering clothes. I need sewing lessons, but I'm stubborn and unfortunately undedicated. Cody is outside my house right now helping my dad with yardwork. I'm jealous. I need the money. Don't expect a Christmas present. We have "people" to trim our bushes and weed our walkways.

I'm thinking that Christine could've just said that she would start a new life with the Phantom and escaped with Raul later on. Also, how does the Phantom's hair go from being jet black to lightish brown in the last scene. And how does he out-live Christine. At this point I'm just assuming that he's really magical/ghostly. But if he was, why didn't he get his face back?

Yes. I'm that interesting. Hope you're all enjoying this. Though "you all" is no one. 'Cept maybe Emilea and Levison and Caroline.
I'll announce this to the facebook community soon.

He's the most beautiful when he cries.

-Emily

Sitting at home, Sufjan Stevens on, waiting for Predatory Wasp of the Palisades to play, love the Illinoise, I can tell you, I love it each day.

My day has been:
arghbuttimerorchestrahate
WHAT!
lunchWHAT!
arghphysedagilities
Hamilton.

Thinking outrageously...if only I could read my thoughts like Sufjan. Perhaps you'd be more inclined to visit.
But I can't tell you, I hear the rain in the Palisades interlude. Like streets I used to live on. In suburbia. See your face. Yes, you.
I see the wasp on the length of my arm.

Alright. I'm back. And I'd like to say, money is killing me. School hates me. Ease seems to have lost my number.
But things like that don't accumulate in your chest when you're happy.
God smiles. It's beautiful, you know.

Good days, bad days,
Welcome to the long haul.

So, Hamilton has just informed me that they are calling for rain this evening. Which is crazy unfortunate considering we had a lovely evening of editing, shooting, dinner and more editing planned. I suppose God works in mysterious ways....and if He wants me to avoid making a fool out of myself for jillionth time on camera, I won't be too disappointed.

This class is getting harder. It's not like I expected it to be like middle school drama or whatever, but this is my easy semester and I'm not even doing that well. It wouldn't be so bad if I could just assume the role of techie. If only our school offered the safe haven of A/Vclub..I wouldn't be forced to put my weirdo face on a schoolwide broadcast once every two weeks.

Maggie Calton, my best friend and maybe the biggest jerk I know, is now mocking me for having a blog. I suppose it serves me right for blogging in class. I think I'm getting better at this, though. And I could honestly careless.
"Emily, are you a celebrity?"
They're all talking about blogs now. Something like celebrities blog alot. Not interested. Unless it's Zach Braff, who has a fantastic blog by the way.

Maggie is now responding to everything in lisp. And making lisp noises. And rapping in lisp. And making fart noises. More lisp. Okay, I'm done reporting.

I'm thinking that people should learn to back off when I'm having a bad day. Yes. That would be awesome. I can barely tolerate it when I'm having a good one.

GOT TO LEAVE!
miss Emilea.

peace

Alrighty. So, I'm giving this another shot.



Listening to Multiply, Jamie Lidell. Groovin...to myself. Ooo. It's so nice.



So Emilea and I are like soul mates. Only friend soul mates?
God blessed us with Discovery '07 (1), and from that sprung a mutual love for each other...and Hannah Abrams(2) and Mamie Morgan(3) and Mindy Friddle(4). It was an experience to say the least. Living with the most fantastic people, learning from them--sometimes from the teachers too. You grow and love and bask in the glow that is excercising and circulating intellect. Okay. I'll stop. Might start missing it again...

Moved on to "Chip on My Shoulder".....don't judge me. Okay! So what? I think the music's catchy!

Well, there you pretty much have it. I mean...except "ripping off Hannah and Mamie." The Battlefield Where the Girls Say I Love You is Hannah's and Mamie's blog that we stole this from. And we figured that it'd be an easier way to communicate.

hoping that I'll get better at this,
peace

Glossary:



Discovery-two week camp put on by the South Carolina Governor's School for the Arts and Humanities (SCGSAH). Host summer classes at its Greenville campus for the five art areas: music, dance, drama, visual arts and of course! Creative Writing.

Hannah Abrams-in my top three most wonderful people I've ever met, writer, traveler, speaks French, introducer of Dave Sedaris, cares for step siblings, blogs with Mamie, very sweet, very, very sweet, creative nonfiction

Mamie Morgan-hot, writer, blogs with Hannah, part-time waitress, teaches at SCGSAH, reads without much inflection, actually a quality they all shared, great, poet

Mindy Friddle-fantastic hair, kind of quiet, cool, dates European man (my nickname for him actually), really big awesome German shepherd, wrote the Guardian Angel, fiction

Alright. So, I'm trying really hard right now to make my first post one of explanation and history, but I guess that just isn't going to happen. Gimme a month or two.

Ha! So it finally happened. We're on the blogosphere. You're welcome, world.

And I fear that this first post is going to be short and sweet, but please come back and read. I promise it gets more interesting and informative.