A DJ, a gym and some glow sticks

At 7:o0 yesterday morning, “Into The Ocean” by Blue October started bursting out of the speakers on my triangular iHome. I continually hit the “snooze” button until I could do so no longer. I gave up at 7:30 and dragged my sorry butt out of bed to face what would turn into an extremely long day.

This weekend was Homecoming weekend. The problem was, I hadn’t given Homecoming a single thought because I had a huge obstacle to get through first. Conveniently, we had a cross-country meet in the freezing cold wind and mud. And, my race was to be the last race of the day. We left at 8:30 in order to get there by 10:00, and I didn’t run until 2:30. All of this equals one long and cold day.

I ran well, and yes, hanging out with the team is always fun. I finally met the guy that has been taking pictures at meets (in which I sometimes appeared) for years, and coincidentally he is also one of my employers. I got to snuggle with five of my teammates to build up the warmth we so desperately sought and got to experience one crazy bus ride.

After my race, we [my family] left immediately. After a few stops along the way, we finally got home at 5:00, and my boyfriend was to be at the house at 6:30 to get some pictures taken beforehand.

The dance was fun. My only complaint was the complete lack of slow songs. He (one of my brother’s friends who played the DJ) must have wanted to keep up with the “rave” theme Student Council had whipped up, but he only played three slow songs and I, along with many others, was disappointed. The entire gym smelled like bare feet and glow stick fluid because people kept breaking open the complimentary glow sticks everyone wore around their necks. A friend of mine actually got squirted in the eye with one at the very beginning of the dance, and she commented that it was very painful.

Afterward, we headed up to a friend’s house to attempt an all-nighter. Everyone but my boyfriend, my friend and me fell asleep. At five o’clock, we decided to get back in the hot tub and didn’t end up surfacing from it until seven. And yes, we got very prune-y.

It was a fun night. I was happy that my boyfriend and I matched perfectly and it’s always a treat to see classmates all dolled up instead of just sauntering around in their pajamas or jeans during the average school day.

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The cherry on top

I had two choices.

Either I lose my sanity and do the musical this year, or I keep my sanity in check and just focus on school and running instead.

Guess which option I chose?

If you’re thinking the first one, you’re an idiot. I may be crazy enough as it is, but I still have my sanity. I think.

Anyway, they changed the musical to “The Wiz” and I was like, “see ya!” And, that’s that. I’m done. I chose my road, remember? It doesn’t involve the yellow brick one that probably appears in “The Wiz.” I chose the lovely red brick one.

So, instead of spending my nights at the school, I’ve gotten stuff done. Good stuff.

I did a project on the novel Jane Eyre. It definitely had the “wow” factor to it. I made a powerpoint, and modeled the sentences after the Dick & Jane books. (Ex: See Jane. See Jane run. Jane runs fast. Run, Jane run!) The best part? Because I was trying to get the point across that Jane Eyre is, in fact, gothic literature, I used Emily The Strange as Jane. Yeah, that’s right. 13-year-old Emily starred in my little movie as Jane Eyre. I was so proud of myself, and I could tell that my AP English teacher was impressed. The icing on the cake? The cherry on top? “Aha!” by Imogen Heap accompanied Jane (Emily) on all of her little adventures. I will never tire of that song. Ever.

Ever since I decided not to be involved in the musical, my life has gotten better. I have no unnecessary stress. Right now I’d be down at the school, but instead I’m here. I’m writing for two newspapers, a website, my blog, doing homework and running cross-country…I don’t have time to participate in silly musicals. There’s no point. It’s hard to walk away, but what’s done is done. My presentation wouldn’t have turned out as well as it did if I had had to be at the school rehearsing last night. And, that’s that.

One day summer slowly floated away

I have decided that I hate fall. I absolutely abhor it. When I was younger I thought I had to love it just because my birthday happens to fall (haha) within those select three months, but now I know better. I’ve learned to hate it.

Sure, the trees are pretty. Beautiful, even. Possibly even gorgeous. But… their prettiness doesn’t distract me from the true evils yet to come. I can see right through that pretty, innocent little façade. They can’t fool me.

I love summer. I love its warmth and the constant urge to go swimming in our beautiful pool. I found one thing I hate about it, though: that fall is the season right after.

Autumn just brings in a whirlwind of newness that leaves me dazed. It’s a season of starts. School, Cross Country (practices and endless trips to the “start”ing line), coldness, unwanted but necessary organization, and just all of that crap. And Autumn takes the sun away and leaves the world cold.

Summer’s still in the air for now, but I can feel it slowly floating away. Fall winds and clouds are slowly invading my tropical dreamland. The sun is going down sooner than it should. Oh, how I wish it was still June!

Sorry, Dorothy

Remember my blog entry about not knowing which road to take? The pretty yellow brick one that was anything but practical versus the solid red brick one? (If not, here it is: https://blackbyrd.wordpress.com/2009/02/27/follow-the-yellow-brick-road/.) Well, I’ve chosen one. Are you curious to know which one I’ve decided to venture down?

This past week was theater camp week. I didn’t really want to go because it seemed like a waste of time. People were working their batooties off on their mud-covered houses and I was stuck inside the high school’s auditorium where it seemed like nothing was wrong. But there was something wrong. A lot of something wrong.

I had to do it, though. I needed to for my own sanity. I’ve been trying to choose what career path to take; the one full of glamour and spotlights (which isn’t even guaranteed) or the sensible one where I am behind the scenes with a pen in my hand? This past week has convinced me that the yellow brick road would not be a wise choice. It may look pretty, but looks can definitely be deceiving. What if I start on my way down it and the path breaks in half because, though the bricks are beautiful, they are cheap? The red brick seems more stable. I’m going for that one.

I enjoyed the singing immensely. It’s the acting that I can’t stand anymore. I’m beginning to think that actors and actresses act like other people because they aren’t okay with themselves. I have become so comfortable with myself and have such high self esteem that I don’t need nor do I want to act like anyone but myself. As I was getting instructed to do certain dance moves and stand in a certain spot and have a certain face on, I grew extremely tired of it. I wouldn’t last in that kind of environment where I am getting told what to look like, how to act, how to sound, and where to go. That’s not me. That doesn’t sound like a desirable future.

And so, I’ve decided that I’m done with theater. I’ll keep my part in the musical, consider taking part in the play (I’ll end up doing it, I know), but I’m not doing anything extra anymore. Sure, our performance might have cheered people up yesterday, but one way to really help them out is to get dirty and help clean up our village. All this week I was wasting my days with the learning of music and dance moves that aren’t even relevant to my future.

I’m done.

Emily’s poetry, a history

I’ve been writing poetry for years. My mother named me after her favorite poet, so why not carry it on? I started out with a composition notebook that I decorated with stickers. Everyone just assumed it was my diary, as if it couldn’t be anything but a shallow notebook with all of my deepest secrets and fears hidden inside. Nobody gave me enough credit. Boys would steal it from me, but I managed to get it back without any harm done. They were only teasing. Teasing is harmless, right?

After that was filled, I moved onto a pink camouflage notebook that had pens attached to the front of it. It was nifty because if I had an idea I didn’t have to hunt for a pen before being able to write it down. The pens were just there. That notebook was also known as my “diary” and even a teacher asked: “why do you bring your diary to school?” To which I simply replied: “it’s not a diary.”

I poured random thoughts and whimsical dreams into those notebooks. Within about a month, the pages started ripping out of the pink camo notebook, so I saved the paper, but threw the rest of the notebook in the garbage. It was time to move on again.

I found a regular old yellow spiral notebook and plastered it with quotes, stickers, drawings, and pop-up sunflowers that I ripped off a thing I had at home. Poetry was transferred from my head onto the pages of that thing for about a year. I entered the seventh grade with the same notebook, and only showed the ones I was proud of to my then English teacher (who is now a teacher in the high school). The boys in my grade grew up a little and stopped calling it my diary, and I continued writing.

For my birthday that year, one of my best friends (we barely speak anymore…) bought me a hardcover spiral notebook with puppies on the front. Said notebook lasted me for nearly two years. That notebook taught me something important. Because I wanted the notebook to last, I only wrote poetry when I really really felt like it and had a good feeling about an idea. I decided that I didn’t have to write about everything – but there are some things that I will always wish to remember. I still have one page left in that notebook that remains empty. If I fill it in, the notebook is done forever. I always want to have the option of being able to fill it up totally. It’s amazing to go from the earlier poems in that book to the last few. It’s like traveling through two years of my life in thirty minutes.

Eventually, I took a little notebook that was a party favor at some birthday party I went to (I think it was Carin’s) and ripped out the used pages. I then covered it with duct tape, and voila! New notebook.

Using the duct tape notebook, I rewrote some of the ones I am really proud of, but I also wrote a year’s worth of new material. I am still busy filling it up with my life, so it’s a work in progress. It’s crazy to see how much I have grown in the past year. There are some poems in said book that are extremely naive and young-sounding. I know I will say the same thing in the future when I look back at what I wrote when I was fifteen (the present… for now), but I like what is exploding out of my pen at the moment. Maybe I will post some examples in the near future (which is defined as: later today).