The Shit

You’re the shit in every way

because you can get high everyday.

Leave life behind for a minute,

go throw your shitty life away.

Talk shit about who you’re jealous of,

and in-between, take a puff,

buy it, load it, smoke it, leave it;

you’re a child no parent could love.

You’re a druggie, a stoner, a piece of shit,

the munchies attacked – no clothes will fit.

I’d give you this poem to let you know

but you’d just end up smoking it.

You ARE shit in every way,

because you can spend money everyday

on pot to smoke to feed your lungs,

I laugh as you throw your life away.

~EMS

Sunday

4/26/09

12:54 AM

Now I know my ABCs…

When I have weeks like the week I’ve been having, I need something that will make me smile. This succeeds.

On Monday I got a test back that I had failed miserably. Science just isn’t my forte. I did 3x each corrections, and I’m hoping that that will boost my grade up to above a 64. We’ll see…

Yesterday I took a quiz in Global and definitely did not get my best grade ever.

Yes, I’m all upset because of my grades. I know that I’ll never remember this once I get to college, but it’s important to me now. It’s all because of the Anthology. I’m making great progress on it, but I get so absorbed in it that I can’t focus on any other class, and it’s killing my average. In Science I would get sudden inspiration for my Antholoy, so I’d work on my Anthology instead of taking notes. Bad, I know. But now I know that I can’t let my Anthology interfere with my life for the next two weeks. I just need to get it done and off of my chest so I can focus on something else.

Thank you, Tilly, for your creative way of helping me learn my ABCs – it helps me feel smart.

Happy Birthday, Barbie

Dear Barbie,

First, I’d like to congratulate you. Happy fiftieth birthday! I won’t bore you with any of those “getting older” Hallmark cards. Old age obviously doesn’t affect you in any way. I mean, c’mon, you’re made of plastic. People pay big bucks to have that stuff injected into their faces, and you have it made. It’s in your genes. Embrace it. Your age doesn’t show on any of your faces.

We’ve had good times over the years. Playing for hours at your house, mixing it up and socializing with some Fisher Price “kids,” going swimming in the summer heat, going bowling, and opening a schoolhouse and pet shop. Sure, our businesses didn’t fluorish, but our friendship did. I’m sorry I misplaced many of your shoes, and I am also apologetic for leaving you naked on the carpet due to my short attention span. But hey, I made up for it by helping you and Ken ice skate and by going on a cruise with you and Skipper.  Riding in your convertible with “Barbie Girl” by Aqua playing was a blast.

Your vacation home was so much fun to play in, but my favorite was definitely your mansion (which I still keep downstairs). The elevator never failed to entertain me. We had fun walking the dog together, right? And don’t you dare forget celebrating Easter together with Kelly! I will never forget going to a Girl Scout sleepover and watching a presentation by a Barbie expert who had millions of you set up on a table in the front of the room. You have played so many characters and taken so many shapes!

Anyway, Barb, I guess where I am getting at is that watching the Jeopardy! category pop up called “Fifty Years With Barbie” really brought back some memories. Happy memories. Memories I will always cherish. Thanks for helping me celebrate birthdays, and I’m sorry I graduated to the much smaller and petite Polly Pocket, but you should always know that I hold a special place for you in my heart. Maybe my little girl will dig up all of my old dolls of you from my parents’ basement and play with them; just as I did with my mother’s old dolls. Happy Birthday, Barbie. It’s been fun. Fifty years have passed, but it doesn’t show on you. I swear.

With Love,

Emily S.

You be you, I’ll be me

I can see through people. Not many people have this ability, but I certainly do. When people lie, I can tell. When people cover something up, I can tell there’s something more. When someone only pretends to like me, I can tell. When people are fake, it makes me sad. When people copy what I do and call it their own, it depresses me a little. What? Can they not come up with something on their own? If you feel that you need to lie, that’s okay with me. If you don’t mention a major detail of a story, fine, I won’t pry. Go ahead and keep pretending to like me. As long as it avoids stupid drama I’m fine. If talking about me keeps you entertained, that’s okay with me. If you feel the need to hide yourself and put up a false front, okay. I’ll be me, you be not you. It’s when someone copies me that really gets to me. I don’t care if it’s supposed to be flattering – it honestly gets very annoying. Be you, I’ll be me. Get your own ideas, create your own style…and leave me be. I’ve accepted that original thoughts are next to impossible (the world is so full of people – it is only to be assumed that someone has thought of something before me), but my style; my original way of life; the way I go about my business has to be my own. You be you (unless you’re fake), and I’ll be me. Subtract original thoughts, but add in a lot of confidence. Confidence is what I thrive on. To be like me you must have confidence. Well, do you?

Frustrated

Writing can sometimes be frustrating. I have been surrendering every study hall period to writing my TWLOHA article, but something tells me that it’s not even close to being finished, and I had hoped to send it once I got home today.  First period, I open up my Trendy Wendy folder (which contains all of my NeXt articles and papers and such) and work on my article. I have so many ideas, but not enough time and not enough creativity to host them all. I have been reading the article that I have so far, and it honestly does not even sound like me. I have a certain voice in my papers (or so I’m told) and I am afraid that I just cannot find it in this article.

Well, anyway, I guess I’d better get crackin’ at my article or my Geometry homework. I’m thinking Geometry might actually win today – I am having so much trouble with this article. When will it ever be finished?!?

Resolutions: take 15

I have not been very… dedicated to my past resolutions. Last year I didn’t make any because my Spanish teacher made us make some out in Spanish. Yuck. That ruined it for me. Well, this year is going to be different. I have asked a friend to aid me in the process of quitting the two things I plan to, well, quit. Not quit cold turkey…but ease my way into the process of quitting. I have already started.

1.) Swearing – I have been swearing up the wazoo for as long as I can remember. It all started when I began playing Halo 2 online with my brother, and yeah, you tend to curse when you lose. That’s exactly what I did (even though I am actually not bad at Halo by any means). Then came my first year of Varsity cross country. My teammate (and yes, one of my very good friends) was the one who really taught me how to swear. It was eff this and eff that day in and day out. I have to be careful when I am around younger kids – it takes a lot of my self control not to utter a single swear word. My friend is going to help me quit this habit.

2.) Knuckle cracking – I am noticing that my knuckles have gotten bigger over the years, and they are not very attractive. I don’t have… pretty hands anymore because of my obsessive knuckle cracking. I crack my knuckles when I am nervous, when I am bored, and when I know my parents will be annoyed by it. Well, I plan to stop. However, back cracking and neck cracking are still permitted.

Those are the two things I plan to cut from my life in the next year. Hello, 2009. Hello pretty hands and clean mouth.

Play progress: day four

I stayed on the computer until nearly eleven o’clock last night and got as much done as I could. The character that is the whole meaning of the play has finally made her entrance – her very wet and muddy entrance, you might say. I know what I need to do, I just do not know how to do it.

I am nearing the middle of the third page, and I am actually having a lot of fun. Instead of buckling down and forcing myself to just write, I let ideas come to me, then I sit down at the computer and type out my ideas. I have my four page paper filled up with clichés at my side, MySpace and Facebook open should I need to check them quickly in-between random spurts of ideas, iTunes open with the Suite From Forrest Gump, the Kingdom Hearts Piano Medley, and Whisperings piano radio playing to give my thoughts courage to come forth and introduce themselves, and I have the definition of cliché ready and open on the computer should I need to give it a quick glance. I am ready. Bring it on. 

Play progress: day three

For the past three days, I have been brainstorming my play-to-be. The deadline is January 7th and yes, I am feeling the stress crush me. Maybe if I had not have put it off this long I would be better off… Naw…I do my best work after taking some time to procrastinate.

Day one I created my characters. I came up with their names, stated their current age, created life behind the otherwise meaningless name, and gave some thought as to what the heck this play was going to be about. Well, I think I finally settled on one of my ideas.

One idea was to write about the secret lives of nuns – what they do when they are not attending church, praying, or just endlessly worshiping this “God.” It was to be all about how they have accounts on XBOX live and enjoy blowing things up on Grand Theft Auto, or shooting people in Call of Duty and Halo. The funny thing was that they were going to be extremely good at said video games. They could probably kick my ass… and yes, I know that they are only characters in my mind.

I honestly cannot remember my other ideas (I have them written down somewhere…I do not feel like getting up to find them), but I think that the one I have ended up with is going to be successful. It started out as one thing, shifted into something else, and now it has resulted in a play that is completely different and yet extremely similar to my original idea. I have a great start on ACT II, and shall post said play once I am finished writing the whole play. Until then, I shall post day-to-day updates to showcase my progress. I have to finish by next Wednesday, so this won’t be going on forever, do not worry.

SQUEE!!!

I am no longer mourning the loss of my lovely Pumpkin. He has passed on, I have moved on (shedding tears, yes) and tried to keep living life (which really wasn’t all the hard, I am sorry to report).

Every Christmas Eve we have our Family Christmas. We wake up, open the presents that we bought for one another (I had Jordan’s name this year – yes, we pick names), and then laze around utilizing whatever it is that we received. Well, this year it was all mixed up. I woke at thirty minutes after eleven, quickly added fringe to both Jordan’s and my daddy’s scarves, and then went downstairs. Everyone was up except for Adam. I decided to take a shower while I waited for his awakening.

After I got out of the shower, my parents were almost out the door by the time I made it into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. “Gotta go run to Wal-Mart!” they said. I didn’t think anything of it.

I settled down with my coffee (don’t worry, I always put more creamer into it than actual coffee – maybe I shouldn’t even be drinking it!) in the Family Room and readied myself for the endless marathon of Man Vs Wild that was stretching out before me into infinity. My parents took off, and I sat around watching Bear and letting him teach me survival techniques. Except for the time we switched the channel to TLC (and watched that crazy family with almost eighteen kids!) because we had seen the Man Vs Wild episode that was showing, our TV stayed on Discovery Channel until my parents got home.

They pulled in, we muted the TV and went into the other room to open presents. My dad was first (him being the oldest), and so I went and got my finished scarf for him and let him open it. After that, my mom told me to wait for Trevor, and I noticed something moving in a crate near the tree. I instantly teared up and was yelling at Trevor to get in the room QUICK. As soon as he got in, I rushed over to the crate (the one with the big red bow on it that I failed to notice when I grabbed the present for my dad – I don’t even know how that happened) and opened the little grey door. Out came this tiny little grey, tan, and white kitten. I burst into tears and couldn’t stop gushing over this cute little thing. “Hey, Em! You better get the toy out for her that’s in the crate too” came Jordan’s suggestion. I kneeled down and looked in the crate, ready to reach out and grab said toy. Instead, there was a pair of tiny little eyes staring back at me. “OH MY GOD!!! TWO?!?!?!?!” Yeah, I started crying – I was so happy that I got the one – well, two – things that I wanted.

Welcome to our family little Ruby and Eloise. Already we have started calling Ruby “Rube” and “Rubes,” and Eloise has now been dubbed “Elle,” “Ellie,” “Weeze,” and “Weezie.” I have taken many a photo of them with my camera, and have spent a lot of today watching them play in the bathroom (where they are staying for now). It’s going to be fun to watch them grow up!!!

Welcoming winter

After hearing Kim panicking over who could and could not attend her shindig, I made suggestions, called a couple of people, and then settled down with Gemma Doyle for a little while because I knew that the matter was out of my hands. Whatever happens will happen. So be it. I looked up from the realms in the book to glance at the clock, and I found that it was 6:16. Said shindig was due to begin at 7:00. Oh boy.

I deserted my heated blanket (which was set on the highest power it could go – 22), and warned my daddy that his assistance would soon be needed for a chauffeur to Kimmie’s house. I ran upstairs, grabbed my camera, rushed back downstairs, plugged it into the computer and made sure that the little green light was glowing, and then I scurried back up the stairs to throw some clothes on and leave my comfy PJs behind. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, decided against wearing my favorite old pair of jeans for fear that they would split if I bent over (they are pretty ancient), and finally settled on my favorite new skinny jeans. I pulled on a pink Tinkerbell tee shirt, shoved my latest knitting project into my bag, removed Pandora from her home (my iPod), and had almost made it out of my bedroom when I passed my boots on the way out. Hmm…I should probably wear those tonight…I’ll have to walk up her driveway and last time my feet got soaked in my Vans. And so, my boots joined the collection of items that I held in my arms to take downstairs.

I found socks (mismatched of course because I desperately need to wash all of my socks), pulled them on, zipped up my boots, grabbed my camera, and I was ready to go. Oh yeah, and I grabbed my earmuffs – those are important.

My daddy dropped me off at the end of Kim’s driveway, and I trudged my way up it – mentally patting myself on the back for thinking to wear my lovely boots.

Now, Kim called her little get-together a “movie night.” Usually whenever someone has a “movie night” we never end up watching a movie. That is exactly what happened. Tallon and Damen were obsessing over how hot Kim’s house was (almost eighty degrees, I believe), so, collectively we made the decision to take a walk.

As soon as we got outside someone (Tallon, I think) said, “hey! Let’s go sledding down the hill right here!”

Instantly inspired, Kim went into the garage and pulled out a toboggan. And so, the “movie night” turned into a “sledding night.” Now, this “sledding night” had a little twist to it. It just so happened that absolutely NOBODY was prepared for this. Damen didn’t even have a coat, and Taylor was the only one with gloves (though they were fingerless). After out first trip down, I was even more grateful that I decided to pull on my boots. Everybody else was wearing canvas shoes.

We went down and down and down and down again, nearly hitting various obstacles in the way. (For example: a tree or a fence.)

We retired to the summery weather indoors (thank you, woodstove!!!) and enjoyed some hot cocoa that helped us forget about our soaking wet pants and freezing bodies. “Hey, let’s do it again!”

“Hell yeah!”

So, again we made our journey out into the cold that stood still. The snow glimmered and was dented by out footprints and toboggan prints. After another joyful ride through the snow, Damen announced that his ankle was bleeding. We decided that we’d better go back inside before even more spilling of bodily fluids began.

We stayed inside again for awhile. We crammed many a chair around the round table that was not big enough for us (it was missing it’s leaf – because it’s winter and there are no more leaves outside so why should there be one in here?!?!? hehe) and drank more hot cocoa and talked. About twenty minutes to eleven o’clock, someone made the decision that we should do it one more time before leaving. So, again we sailed down the hill laughing all the way (ha ha ha!) nearly hitting said obstacles every time. Damen almost flipped over (his bleeding had ceased), Tallon bailed on us, and I accidentally kicked Tallon where the “sun don’t shine” with my hooker boots. Whoops.

My mom came to pick me after eleven, and the first thing she asked was “what movie did you guys watch?”

Does she not know the rule of “movie night?”