What Became Known as the Early Years

Read Caroline's latest post. Here we go. *best served with a side of Jason Mraz, live at the eagles ballroom. just not too much food or curbside. preferably the first*

It is three years ago. I have never felt this way before. Slide guitar echoes in my mind now, waiting for the first chord to be stricken. I catch a glimpse of it at the head of the curve, whip my head around. I have been driving for six hours. When it first comes into vision I am a child. Jaunty poprockjazz on the edges of my conscious. Pupils dilate. I want to hold this moment in my hand. My heart beats faster. We are coming to a climax.

We round the corner and I understand. I am flying over this valley on the wings of your song. The valley pops light below, every little spark with its own caretaker. My spirit rides on a gust of I don't feel so-whoa nice. I grasp to catch my breath, so unsteady.

Inhale. It falls apart. Kiss my cd player.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.


Not again. I watch the cool float over this town. Take my hand this once. I have flown over this valley. Tonight, I feel I'm comin again, so I just might let you in, in, in.

Emily?

Okay. So, let me have a big, gigantic laugh at my guy friends for a moment.

We are friends with these girls (who would never read my blog) Michelle, Ashley and Lauren. And they're fine girls. Whatever. But they have like...nothing in common. Why do boys do that? Why bother? Eventually you will have to hang out with them alone, and then what? Make out? Cover the silence with a movie?

Things don't work like that.

Anyways, New Years is like now, right? So they had this idea that we'd (we=the crew. about 9 kids. we sit together at lunch)have a New Year's eve party. Which is an okay idea, 'cept it has run into some obstacles.
1. the group flirt will be on a cruise for the next 3 days.
2. I will be partying at Maggie's into the new year.

So, it will be
Michael
Caleb
Conor
Chris
alone with Ashley and Lauren.
Weird? You don't know the half of it.

Ashley is also planning on inviting her Spartan High friends. One of whom, our other guy friend--who favors the girls' company--has a crush on.

hahahahahahahahahahaha.
I can't wait to see the pictures.

But you know, I'm probably a little bit afraid that they'll have a crazy awesome time. I don't care. I'll be hangin with muh love.

Anyways,
I'll probly blog/edit into this post about paintballing later.
*weird smile*

Emily

Listen up, world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Come on!!

"Cody
Libby
Katie
Hunter
Sean
Gayle
Will
Kristin
Betty
Bill
Margaret
Kelly
Krystal
Lauren

To you, these names may mean nothing. To me, a lot."

So, filling in the blanks here:
Cody is this crazy guy who goes to church with me who I had a fantasticly HUGE crush on in 7th grade.
Libby is this outrageously selfish girl who used to torment my sister back when she lived in NC.
Katie is my sweet, old, lovely mix terrier of about 9 years.
Hunter is my friend Heather Ledbetter's little brother. Heather L is really funny. 4 years older than me. 4 inches shorter than me.
Sean->Shawn Yang. My nemesis...(that story is for another blog)
Gayle is the mother of Tre' Smith. My more or less black brother. He lived down the street from me for 3 years. He basically lives at our house during the summer. : ) love that guy.
Will, my youth pastor.
Kristin Sellars...um. Estranged, basket-ball playing semi-popular blonde girl.
Betty Ballou Alverson, my grandmother
Bill...Withers? I don't know any Bills. I knows a ten dolla bill. haha. lame.
Margaret Anne Calton. MAC. Maggie. My dear, my dear. I'll write at once to the wizard...
Kelly Mimms, lead singer of MyCalvary. Nate's sister. ballin.
Krystal, the name I, at one point, seriously believed I was supposed to be christened back in the day. Like...in kindergarten.
Lauren Lawson, vain of my existence at the moment. sorry. she's just killin me, smalls.

Anyways. Hope you like.
Hope it starts a trend if you know what I mean I know you know Emilea come on I know.
Emily

I am a disappointment.

Spending the few remaining hours of my Saturday nursing a crush for Eric Clapton and *********** ******** *******whose name I will most likely forget to edit out of here.

I am listening to Relient K and not very much caring that I haven't done the chores my father asked me to do this morning. He will throw a ridiculous hissy when he gets home. In front of his children. (my step brother and sister) And will culitivate an incredibly childish grudge that he will hold on to throughout the holidays. I need not express my feelings about all this as they have already been mapped out in the post prior to this.

I love my aunts. They're fabulous...truly.
"but let me tell you, it hurt like the mischief"
"sho' nuff"

Oh, it's just so cute.

I'm angry. *********** ******** ******* answer me darn it. I'm stupid.



Emily

Okay. So, I hate my parents. Not like...I don't know. I'm not especially mad at them or anything today. They're just not good people. And I hate them. And seeing them everyday is killing me. I hate it that I'm like this. I wish I were a different person. Or that they had a different daughter who loved them or atleast liked them. They'd be happier, I wouldn't have suicidal urges so often.

I am not going to be sick. I am sick. I am one of those thirty year-olds who hates Christmas in the making. And I hate it! I want to be one of the amazing, sweet senior girls I meet who love their moms and treat them really well. But I can't. My mom curses in front of me and then goes to church on Sunday. She's half crazy. My dad said the s-word twice yesterday. He'll probly lecture me about skipping Youth yesterday. It makes me want to throw up. This family is a constant gag reflex. What's worse is they're all bi-polar except for Nick and Alyssa, who live in freaking Texas (can't blame their mom). I wonder if I have tricked myself into believing that all families are more or less like this. Obviously they aren't.

My dad has been angry at me all week because I skipped his choir concert to work on a school project. Excuse me for a moment. *runs to the bathroom, empties innards into toilet*

Ugh. I hate them I hate them I hate them.
How do you honor people you hate?
My worst fear is not that I'll end up like them. It's that I already am. I need to sleep. I've probly shaved 5 or 6 hours off of my normal pattern.

Talking about this makes me nauseous, but not talking about it is constricting my heart. Semi-literally.
Puking, puking,
Emily.

Today, in broadcasting, we had our party and Secret-Santa-ed. And Dennys got my name and he gave me Holidays on Ice. Dave Sedaris. What am I supposed to do with that? Who invented cursing and how might I ruin their lives? Anyone?

Head's up to those after it.

Oh gosh, I want you so badly.

I need my freakin Central Park Concert cd. What the heck?? I cannot visit my step grandmothers house without leaving something. Dave Matthews is so cute. Man...he does freaking everything.

Welcome to my procrastination.

Things to do:
Write for application.
Not listen to Dave Matthews.
Start and finish my Global Studies project on Cuba.

Thomas is home. We ate mexican food earlier and it is making me lazy. That isn't a racial slur. I'm just really full. And sleepy. Maybe if I take a nap it would help. Or make it worse. Who knows...

Alright. I hope the world is right. And that I'll retrieve my Central Park Concert cds this weekend.

Love to all,
I'm not going crazy,
Emily

Lovely lady, I will treat you sweetly, adore you, I mean, you crush me.

My heart is falling to pieces and I can't even tell you why. And no, that's not cliche'. Lemme tell you why:
My chest has been sore all day. Like depression sore.


I can't do this again!

I would like to set the record straight and say that no one is/will ever be worth that. Not even Chris Thile. Who has a beautiful face that I frequently think and hope about rolling over in bed to find asleep beside me, but, in the end, I am just a quiet, hopeless kid who you can't depend on--specially not to make up her mind.

I will delete this post. Because I don't talk about it.





Emily



Any girl can see beauty in him so what makes me so special? Nothing, that's what. Nothing at all.

And not sad, silent tears either. Big, messy tears. And I have a headache now. And my eyes are red. And Tod meeting Vixy isn't helping either. She's all cross-eyed. And stupid.
What kind of name is Vixy anyways?

Also, why does Big Mama just start singing? She's like School House Rock...weird.

Anyways. That's all I think.

Emily

It's not like I wanna get married. I never asked you to kiss me. I just don't want you to be sorry you didn't try.
problems I have with these lyrics:
1. I could never not kiss Chris Thile when given the opportunity.
2. I find it impossible to believe that anyone could ever reject him.
But then again I am a loser-fan. So...who knows?


I could kick myself for all the stupid stuff I do. I am a big, super gigantic loser and I'd prefer that be the end of that. Not really. I don't even remember typing that. I'm spaced out. Sad, ridiculous.
Please yell at me. Please tell me what you don't like about me. Please say that you're tired of me.
But don't disappear off the face of the earth. Especially when I'm in the middle of ranting.

I don't think I can listen to Sabra Girl again. Not today. Does my brain know how to make my heart ache? Or is it just Sara Watkins?

"I think you're neat."

I'm pathetic. And I want to hear this person say that to me....but I'm all confuddled and maybe I don't mean that.

Anyways, I'm writing this in my orchestra dress. I don't really have shoes that go with this. Death to Smoochy's on!!!!!! This was the first Ed Norton movie I ever saw. And I just thought he was the cutest. I still wanna just kiss his cheek. And I wish that I was Nora...
And I still think he's the cutest. Even though I've seen American History X and that movie were he plays the guy with a multiple personality disorder. And anyways.

But I hope that somehow the world has come together today and made you happy.

Emily

Hello.
I am not a good actress.
I am a fair writer.
I am friend requesting this person who goes to your school out of pure curiosity.
I'm sad and sleepy and...peaceful. Or slugish or something.

The Majestic is one of my new favorite movies. It's nice to see Jim Carrey be charming...all of my uncles remind me of a famous, handsome actor. : ) I think that's kind of cool. Uncle Mark is alot like Jim Carrey. I hope him and Nell are having an excellent honeymoon.

I'm still reading Wicked. And as some sort of battle against the calm I'm feeling right now, I just put on Come Right Out and Say It. There it goes. Bye, bye, calm. It was nice while it lasted. It's just making me nervous. I hang on persons' words too much. Far too much. Ugh. My stomach.

Anyways. I'm done trying to move you. Not really...obviously.

Going to play some cello...wish Aunt Mia would respond to my email,
Emily

To me, Christmas is the embodiment of surrender. It is the time we allow ourselves to be covered and consumed in awe, in the realization of our Father becoming physical love in the image of His son born to us. We release ourselves to Him. We embrace disregard of our hopes, expectations, emptiness, inadequecies to Grace that cradles our whole, weak selves. Christmas becomes the window to allow Love to wholly define you. We release ourselves to Freedom, Hope, Goodness, to what is right, and let ourselves become nothing, to shake and shiver in wonder and trust, in the love of Jesus Christ.

"...this is my Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased."
Matthew 3:17, NIV