That day was a fairy tale

A week ago last night, I was out dancing the night away with people I love, with one person in particular. Yep, prom’s long gone now. Throughout this past week, I found myself looking at the girls that had prepared a little bit too much. They were the ones that went fake tanning for MONTHS beforehand just to make sure their skin was the perfect backdrop for their dresses. I’m glad I’m not like that and found it sad that there are girls out there that are.

I honestly couldn’t have dreamed up a better date. There were times when he lifted me up and twirled me around. He even did that dance move where he dipped me down low and then kissed me. During “Today Was A Fairy Tale” by Taylor Swift, he lifted me up and swayed back and forth with me in his arms. People all around were smiling at the couple that was so in love. We were and are that couple. Prom was a dream come true, which sounds cliche, but it was.

After the dance, we went bowling and Robby amazed me by being great at it, which I never had knowledge of. Then, at my house, we socialized, but when everyone else was dropping like flies to sleep we sat on the old green wicker chairs that we have set up looking out over the hill behind our house and onto our land. I sat in his lap and we watched the sun come up together. We talked about anything and everything while we were waiting, and when the sun finally rose, we were breathless. Course, after that, we ate some breakfast and then fell asleep together on the couch in the family room. That day was a fairy tale.

When my child is old enough to go to their first prom, I will be able to gush about my junior prom. Now I’m excited for Robby’s prom next year, for this relationship sha’n’t be ending any time soon.

Everything is connected and beautiful

It was beautiful. The snow glittered in the light the streetlamp gave off and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. He held my hand as we trudged across his yard, he in his boots and me in my Converse high tops. After awhile, I couldn’t handle it anymore, and he noticed. He scooped me up and carried me to our destination: the swings.

I immediately felt disappointment upon arriving. I saw that I couldn’t swing because the snow was so high that the necessary pumping would be impossible. He, wanting to fix the problem, set about trying to fling the swing over the bar to make the chains go up a little higher. When he couldn’t do it, I settled on the lowly swing (my pew, to those who read my poetry…oh wait, you don’t), and straightened my legs as he pushed me toward the tree. He stumbled and fell when he was pushing me, and I swung back and ended up on top of him. We got soaked, but couldn’t help but laugh. I kissed him, kept laughing, and then Becky and Thad came over to assist us after witnessing the whole thing.

Thad had a different way of getting the swing to go over the bar, so when he failed his first try, Robby tried the new method, and succeeded. I was finally free to swing without the snow on the ground interfering.

It was just like it had been over the summer, only so different. I can’t believe I sat on the same exact swing over the summer without knowing whose backyard I was practically in; without knowing that I would soon fall hard for the boy who lives in that yellow house. Because I am falling. Hard. And I know that once I’ve fallen all the way, he’ll be there to catch me so I don’t smash into a million pieces upon welcoming the ground with my body. He’ll be there to keep me safe as he has been doing for the past month and a half of my life. Since that night he stopped my tears and made me laugh. Since that night, I realized that there was something special about him.

After I got too high up for him to push me anymore, I looked at the tree whose leaves I had kicked over the summer. Things had definitely changed, but it was a beautiful change. The cold air pierced my exposed hands and bit into them, giving them more sore and dry cracks, but I didn’t care. It felt so good to swing after months of not having the chance to.

I slowed down, and he greeted me with a kiss. That’s the best greeting I could have asked for. It showed that I had left one dreamland and entered another one.

We trudged through the snow again, holding hands and looking up at the stars. It’s a beautiful thing. But then again, everything has been beautiful lately. To me, anyway.

What every girl wants

My room situated in one of the four corners of the second floor (third if you count the basement as a floor); right in the front. I have two windows: one on the side of the house and one on the front. The side window looks out onto the roof of our first-story garage right next door. The front window looks out to our walkway up to the porch and the driveway that leads up to that garage I just mentioned.

On Friday I decided that I would not be attending our optional Saturday practice the next day. I made up my mind to sleep-in that day instead.

Like clockwork, Saturday morning I woke up at 8:00 without the help of an alarm (which I had promptly turned off the night before). I was pissed. I rolled over and fell asleep again.

I woke up the next time to “Rapunzel! Rapunzel! Let down your hair!” and heard the sound of quick footsteps on the pavement in my driveway just below me. It took me a second to clear away the dreamy haze around my thoughts to decipher the meaning behind the shout and the footfalls. When I realized what was happening, I jumped right out of bed and ran downstairs. My dad beat me to the door, and just beyond it stood a group of boys covered in rainwater and showing it off on their naked upper bodies.

“Where’s Emily?!?” they called.

“She’s sleeping,” my dad replied.

“Umm…no I’m not!” I said and then stepped outside to confront my visitors.

The whole cross country team was beaming at me as I stood there in my sleeping shorts, old stained Super 8 shirt, and extreme bedhead (but, what did I care?). Kevin (the one who yelled the thing about Rapunzel) lifted me up to wake me up and left me soaked from the water on his body. They had run all the way from the school up to my road and figured they might as well drop in and say hi to me. Before they all ran off, I grabbed my boyfriend and kissed him.

I woke up to a group of shirtless boys standing on my front porch looking for me. That’s probably what every girl wants to wake up to in the morning. It sure did brighten my day considerably.

Dear old friends,

Yep, that’s what you are, old. You’re not the shiny new car with that new car smell. You’re the old rustmobile that needs several air fresheners to keep the air inside bearable to even breathe in. What’s my problem, exactly? The fact that you’re old. Now I’m ready for some shiny new friends that won’t be stupid like you.

When I kissed the last person I kissed, I was completely sober. Were you for yours? Do you even know who you kissed? Were you certain that it was a person of the gender opposite you? Do you know how completely stupid you probably act and sound when you have vile substances in your body? Probably not. So, why do you insist on continuing? Since you most likely do not have an answer that meets my high standards for any of these questions, I would like to say adieu to you.

I feel sorry for you. I’m sorry that you think you need alcohol in your body to have fun. I’m sorry that that has become the only way you can ever have any fun. I’m not planning on inviting you to anymore of my movie nights or anything I have with friends in the future. There won’t be any alcohol involved, so you probably won’t want to come anyway. I suppose I could slip some beer into the Jell-O to please you, but that’s not me. I’m sorry that that’s you.

I have morals. I’m not about to fuck myself over for life because I got drunk one night. One mistake is all it takes. I hope you have fun washing your beer-stained clothes the next morning and attempting to hide the fun you’re having from your parents. Sounds like a bitchin’ time. I’m sorry that I don’t feel right being a part of it. I’ll have fun drinking when I’m at or close to the right age. And when that time comes, I’m sure I’ll want something more sophisticated in my body. No beer for me. I don’t need to be drunk to have a fun time with my “friends.” Have fun at those parties in the future. I won’t be around to “enjoy” them with you. I’m choosing not to. And yeah, I may be a stick in the mud, but it’s because I know what I want. Maybe you should figure out what you want. The next time you’re wandering around drunk and stupid, I’ll be sober enjoying the company of a good book or my boyfriend. Sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than what you’re doing.

Sincerely,

Emily

We get it! You kissed a girl and you liked it

Katy Perry.

When I first heard her hit “I Kissed A Girl,” I thought, hey, this isn’t bad. It’s actually kind of funny. Then I heard it again. And again. And again. And again. Everytime I turned on the radio. Every single time I flipped to Playlist. Everywhere I turned, people were singing it. I took it off my iPod after having it on there for less than a week. Goodbye, Katy.

I have not listened to her full CD, but the ones I have heard have not brought pleasure to my ears. Namely “Ur So Gay.” Honestly?!? HONESTLY?!?!? I disliked it right away because of the spelling of “you’re,” but then the song was horrible as well. It was mostly the lyrics that really pissed me off.

I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf
While jacking off listening to Mozart
You bitch and moan about LA
Wishing you were in the rain reading Hemingway
You don’t eat meat
And drive electrical cars
You’re so indie rock it’s almost an art
You need SPF 45 just to stay alive

You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like boys
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like…

…and that’s not even the whole song.

Listen, I’m not all about gay rights or anything, but this song and these lyrics are so awful! There are plenty more creative people with meaningful lyrics that deserve what she has and more. Sure, she may be homophobic, but that does not mean she has to profess her dislike of the gay population to the whole world. I mean, c’mon! She kissed a girl! Should she not be sick with herself?

She got famous with the most meaningless song on the planet, became even more famous with her other meaningless songs, and now her music is sung by young girls across the country? What’s wrong here?

I hate the little onesie things that she wears for concerts. I watched her performance on MTV one night, and her voice was even worse than her lyrics. She’s like one of those Disney kids where you can tell just how much technology has interfered with their “talent.” (‘Cause for some reason every Disney kid has to sing as well – that’s another thing I get pissed about.)

I respected her at first. I thought “I Kissed A Girl” was neat because it was different; no other artist I know of would ever come up with something so bizarre. Now it’s old, and she’s trying to use another single off of her album (the soft song on the album) to show her vulnerable side. Well, I don’t see it. Keep kissing girls and telling people that they don’t even like… PENIS. (Seriously, look up those “Ur So Gay” lyrics and you’ll know what I am talking about.)

Emily out.