You can spell “Miley” with “Emily”

Miley Cyrus has been on my mind lately. Her new album, BANGERZ, is partially to blame, considering I’ve had it on repeat in my car for about three weeks now. This is from the same girl who wrote this post six years ago. That was how I felt then, this is now.

At a party last semester, I distinctly remember a girl taking note of my rather short –– and then, boy-like –– hair.

“Don’t tell me it’s because of Miley,” she said.

It struck me as a funny thing to say. What would it have mattered to that girl if I had? And why would that be such a bad thing?

I’ll admit I was shocked when “We Can’t Stop” came out. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as I watched it in my secluded little cubicle at work, hoping nobody would interrupt my private viewing. Shock turned into laughter when I saw her ridiculous teddy bear outfit and the sight of her just writhing on a bed. You have to admit the line that leads to the chorus –– “La da da da di, we like to party, dancin’ with Miley, doin’ whatever we want” –– is catchy.

I wasn’t alone for “Wrecking Ball” when it came out. Paige pulled it up on her computer and we watched it on my friend’s front porch, beers in hand. Then we laughed about it. And raved about it. To me, the music video for “Wrecking Ball” is extremely entertaining. She wears undergarments, carries a sledgehammer and rides naked on a wrecking ball. It’s so ridiculous it’s hysterical.

It’s silly to get all worked up over things celebrities do. And if you’re worried your children will look to Miley as an example for behavior, why the hell are you letting them watch things like the VMAs or her music videos on YouTube?

But let’s mix this up a bit. We went through headlines that attack Miley in my social media in business class and were asked to find the story the headlines don’t tell. My group and I decided to talk about how great of a role model Miley is for women our age.

I’m not lying. She is. Specifically for those of us in the 19 to 25 range.

Her supposed “fall from grace” is relatable for a lot of young women who make the high school-to-college transition. Life opens up. The I can do whatever the hell I want mentality is born and some take advantage of it. Miley did, too. The only difference is she has millions of dollars at her disposal.

She’s a brilliant example of public relations because people are talking about her. 

She’s a brilliant role model for me to have because she doesn’t give a fuck. 

She does what she wants and doesn’t let opinions stop her. I crumble when I know one person doesn’t like me for no reason; Miley has millions of people who hate her and she doesn’t stop. She can’t stop.

And even if the Miley she puts forth isn’t precisely who she is, that Miley is, at least, relatable.

The reason why we’re obsessed with Miley is because she has apparently derailed from the Disney-friendly version of herself. I find the short-haired, blond Miley extremely refreshing.

Thoughts from one tiny corner of the universe

There are so many thoughts in my brain right now, tripping over each other, colliding into each other, grabbing and pulling at each other, fighting, rioting and screaming.

The pressure to write something on blackbyrd has crushed me for the past three years, once writing got hard. I tried to write something over the past two weeks. Then I tried again. I tried another time. I saved all three posts as drafts. Maybe I’ll open them up again someday and finish them. Maybe not. My struggles stem from credibility. The more credible one becomes as a writer, the harder it is to write and write well. I can’t produce crap; I can’t have any spelling or grammatical errors. One slip up and I’m a hypocrite. What a filthy word.

Until I really complete those drafts, here are brief synopses of each one:

Draft one: With the new strategic communications major here at St. Bonaventure University, plenty of my colleagues have begun writing on their own blogs. I know for a fact a fair few of them get more viewers in a day than I could ever begin to dream of. Thus, sessions of Emily doubting herself and her abilities are born. Does my writing suck? Am I boring? Should I jump on the bandwagon and promote myself more? Should I write about more interesting topics? Does anything I write even matter? 

The last one. Does anything even matter. That’s what hurts the most.

Blogging doesn't have to revolve around viewership.
Blogging doesn’t have to revolve around viewership.

Overwhelmed cannot even capture the emotions I feel when I think about how big the world is and how small I am. Fourteen-year-old Emily didn’t care when she registered this blog as “blackbyrd,” named after her obsession with The Beatles. She sat in her tiny corner of the world, typing away on her mother’s iMac. She didn’t even have a Facebook or a Twitter yet. Self promotion was seemingly nonexistent. She wrote about stupid shit. If she wanted to write it, she wrote it. And she didn’t care how many viewers she got; that’s not the reason why she wrote. She even stopped tagging posts during high school because –– get this –– she didn’t want people reading. Imagine that.

Viewership still isn’t  shouldn’t be my reason for writing.

There. That feels good to get off my chest.

Draft two: I love Miley Cyrus. I was her for Halloween last fall and I’d be her again in a heartbeat. What a public relations genius. I can’t imagine how hard it is to be her.

Okay, I lied. There is no Draft three, but here’s what it would have been: life is too short to let friends fall by the wayside. Sorry about the cliché.

I’m tired of friends fighting for stupid reasons. I’m tired of only hanging out with one or the other. Kiss and make up… please?

Finally, if there had been a Draft four, it probably would have been something about receiving constructive criticism and accepting it with grace instead of with anger and spite. But that’s just me.

Maybe the thoughts in my brain will quiet down enough now so I can sleep tonight. Such wishful thinking.

Oh, the thinks you can think (in 2009)

6/23/2009 –– I know that with every mistake I make comes a lesson to learn, but that doesn’t relieve the sick feeling in my stomach whenever I make one. I don’t like messing up. I am not very partial to making someone disappointed in me; especially someone I care about.

I’ve learned to think before I speak, now I just have to learn how to think before I act. I think I can, I think I can. I will. I am going to. When the next chance arises to act, I am going to think first. It’s time to let that common sense that I claim to possess shine through and help me make important decisions. Wish me luck for my future full of decision-making.

_________________________________________________

Without even meaning to, a friend of mine inspired me to browse through posts I’ve saved as drafts over the years. Again, without even meaning to, he inspired me to read through them and try to piece together what was going on when I wrote the drafts. So here goes nothing.

Adam had just graduated from high school. Here I am with my three older brothers:

My dress was rather revealing and I've always suspected Trevor purposely held his program like that over my chest.
My dress was rather revealing and I’ve always suspected Trevor purposely held his program like that over my chest.

I looked back into my archives and found this post, but I don’t know what half the shit I listed even means now.

2009 was also the year Jordan graduated from St. Bonaventure:

We look thrilled.
We look thrilled.

And Grady, Jordy’s Golden Retriever, looked like this:

Baby Grady.
Baby Grady.

And I even have a screenshot of the music I listened to as I wrote that draft on my mom’s iMac:

Screenshot 2014-01-14 14.49.24

As for the content of the post, it’s still pretty accurate. I hate the thought of disappointing people, especially those of whom I feel immense respect for. Like my 15-year-old self, I don’t believe half of the compliments people give me. I’ll always feel like there’s more I can do, more I can be. I didn’t spend much time on the work I produced for my current internship and cringed every time I saw my boss’s name pop up in my inbox. I thought she’d be disappointed with my work. On the contrary, she was thrilled and even invited me back for a second internship this semester.

Thinking before speaking is definitely a newly acquired skill of mine. Who knew it would take me five years to really follow through on those claims I made in that draft? I also think more about what company I’m in and try to tailor what I want to say. There are so many ways one can offend another person without even realizing it. “It’s my mouth I can say what I want to,” Miley sings. Yeah. But sometimes you really really can’t. Sometimes it’s better to say nothing at all. You may not believe me, but I can be quiet. Except when my mom and I are in a silent church and she makes me laugh. But that’s another story.

I don’t know what was going on in my teenage-girl brain in that draft, but at least I know that my age and my life may change, but my values don’t have to.

 

Draft 1 of 97 complete.

Emily IS Strange

And here I am again, staring at the empty white block of WordPress space. You know, when I started this blog back in 2008, I thought of specific topics to cover in each post. Rants included my fourteen-year-old hatred for Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry, and all things normal. On the family computer, I most frequented my blog, MySpace, and Emily the Strange’s Society of Strange. I had over 3,000 posts on that society website. I was dismayed to find it no longer there one day. All of my “hard work” was wasted.

I was “different.” I was “misunderstood.” My hair was red and I skipped around the high school wearing fishnets and crazy skirts, undoubtedly designed by Tripp, the gothic clothing brand. I sported Emily the Strange gear, spent tons of money on band merchandise, and listened to nothing but Escape the Fate, Bullet for my Valentine, and the like. (Not the band The Like.)

Yep, I’m insulting the very girl who began this blog. The only decent things she did was start a blog in the first place, and name it “Blackbyrd” after The Beatles song. It could have been something like “There’s No Sympathy for the Dead” (ETF) or “Kiss and Control” (AFI), but it wasn’t.

My blog is growing with me, and that was made possible by my choice to name it “Blackbyrd.”

As for me, I will keep updating and growing. I’m thanking my fourteen-year-old self for buying those band tee shirts – they make for extremely comfy lounging tees now.

No, Miley. I don’t ever wish to be a “Fly On The Wall”

I feel like ranting. Hope you’re ready for this.

I just viewed Miley Cyrus’s video for “Fly On The Wall.” Now, I didn’t mean to watch it, I was perfectly happy with the 3OH!3 video that was before it, but I cannot control the playlist on Playlist. Though I wish I could, sadly I cannot.

She is so annoying. I hate all of these pop artists that think they are hot shit and stuff. They think that absolutely everyone loves them, even though quite a few people obviously don’t. Another example is Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable.” Now, I respect Beyonce more than Miley, but the whole “I could have another you in a minute” really cheesed me off. Yes, Beyonce, now we know that you are a whore and like it. Good for you! Now shut up.

Anyway, back to Miley.

It just feels like the perfect time to rant about her again. Remember my post from over the summer? Ha… well, here’s more.

I didn’t mind her when she first appeared out of nowhere. I watched Hannah Montana every once in awhile and kind of liked it. After some time, she definitely didn’t grow on me. SpongeBob did, but she didn’t. After the whole Vanity Fair fiasco all I remember thinking is “ew.” I never was a fan of hers, but after the magazine thing, I didn’t care for her at all. Here she is, this role model on Disney Channel for all of these young kids that love and adore her, and then she has to do something like that. Gross.

Her voice is awful, I don’t think she’s that pretty, and her chipmunk teeth annoy the hell out of me. The part in the music video when the “paparazzis” start dancing really got to me. She’s just standing there with her mouth part way open and her teeth sticking out. Very attractive. She’s obviously trying to break free of “cute little Miley” and trying to be “bad ass Miley.” It’s not working. All of these Disney people seem to think they have to prove that they aren’t as “goody goody” as they seem. It’s starting to get a little annoying, to tell you the truth.

I feel bad for all of the young kids that look up to this Miley character. Pretty soon they’ll be wearing really tight jeans and throwing their hair about in an attempt to be like Miley, who tries to be sexy. She’s a little older than I am, but she is acting like she’s in her twenties. If being a “Fly On The Wall” means having to listen to stupid gossip and hair products and clothes and shoes, well, I hope they see me and swat me. Or…I could buzz around her head and annoy the hell out of her. Yes, that sounds much better. In the meantime, I’ll stick with only ONE “Fly On The Wall.” Instead of watching Miley’s horrible video, go read the book Fly On The Wall by e. lockhart. It’s far better than any song Miley will ever sing. (Attempt to sing…)

MILEY CYRUS INVASION

Everywhere I look, she is smiling back at me. How does someone like her gain such power? One answer: her daddy. Yep, she is a perfect example of Daddy’s Little Girl. She is only famous because her dad is.

She does not have any talent. Her Disney Channel TV show is pitiful, for she cannot act. She should not be a famous singer just because her dad is too. One must have talent in order to be a famous singer, and unfortunately this is a trait that she just does not possess. Her voice is nasally and she should be banned from creating anymore CDs.

What is the deal with the whole Hannah Montana thing anyway? All she does is put on a wig, and BAM she’s a “new” person. Definitely not an improvement, that is for sure. I guess where I am going with this is that there are people out there that are definitely more talented than she is, but they will never be noticed because they just do not have the connections that she has. What a shame!!!

My friend (we’ll call her Kathy) and I went to Walmart the other day. Yes, Miss Hilton, the place where they “sell wall stuff.” Everywhere she and I looked, Miley Cyrus was smiling back. The clothing section had racks and racks of Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus merchandise staring us down. I was actually scared for my life. Seeing her mousy smile everywhere I looked was absolutely frightening. Kathy and I looked through the posters and found that almost every single one of them was of either Cyrus or Montana. CHOOSE A FRIGGEN IDENTITY ALREADY!!! The cherry on top was when Kathy and I and her father and sister went into Subway, and just as we were settling into a booth and getting ready to take a bite, Cyrus’s new single erupted through the speakers. I felt like I was about to puke.

The next time Kathy and I go to Walmart together, we are buying a cork board, a Hannah Montana poster and a pack of nice, sharp darts. We will then paste the poster to the cork board and hurl those nice, sharp darts at said poster. We decided that she does not deserve to be famous. Talentless people do not deserve to be the idol of practically every little girl in the world.

Stinky Cheese

My boyfriend provided the title for this post, and now I finally came up with something to write underneath the mysterious title. No, this post is not about stinky cheese. Rather, this is about all of the annoyances in life. Is stinky cheese not an annoyance?

The first annoyance that I would like to address is one that I know everyone has endured countless times: getting soap in the ol’ eyes. This is just a matter of opening your eyes at the worst possible moment. In comes the soap, and here comes the pain. I know that I have never screamed out loud when this has happened to me, but it sure is painful enough to want to.

Everyday, my mother and I bitch and moan about everything you can ever imagine. One concept we just cannot seem to grasp is the following: how can people not know which side of the road to walk on? When she and I are out in our Buick Rendezvous (usually heading to the mall or some store with cheap books) we always see a few walkers, and they are more often than not on the wrong side of the road. When walking on the side of the road, walk against traffic, pweeze. Thank you very much. Now, ride your bike with traffic. It really isn’t all that difficult, folks.

Cellular phones are an annoyance in many ways. The most annoying way? My mother and I agree that it is when a person is talking on their cell phone aggravatingly loud in a store. Today, while in the paint aisle, she and I overheard (it’s impossible to eavesdrop when it is so loud) a woman’s conversation about how she does all these nice things for people, and they are never nice to her in return. Okay, lady, obviously the people that you are nice to think that you are annoying, just like you are annoying when you talk about how they don’t appreciate you, in public for all to hear.

Ever crave a big bowl of cereal? Did you then go to the refrigerator, grab the carton of milk, and then tip it over into the bowl whilst licking your lips? Ever have only a few drops come out? Yeah, that would be annoyance Numero Cuatro. My oldest brother always leaves a teeny bit of milk at the bottom, and then when I crave that nice, big bowl of cereal, I have to make two trips to the fridge instead of one. Sure, the extra walk is a little more exercise (though I do not think that I need it), but it is simply unnecessary and can easily be avoided. Next time he comes home, I am hiding the milk.

My mother provided an annoyance for me. She finds it annoying that nice guys almost always finish last. I guess that I will have to ask her to delve into this further so I can find out exactly what she means.

One day in my eighth grade year, my friend (let’s call her Marie) showed up to school in a black hoodie, and brown knee-length shorts. My other friend (let’s call her Jenny) went absolutely ballistic on Marie when she saw what she was wearing. Now, you must understand that Jenny is the “fashion police” and needs to address absolutely every “error” someone has made on their outfit. Marie and Jenny were in a huge fight that whole entire day just because Marie wore brown and black together, and supposedly they “just don’t go!” Please, Jenny, get a life and stop trying to control everyone else’s. And to all others out there who believe that brown and black do not go together: everything goes with black! Fashion police are an everyday annoyance.

I do a lot of the laundry in my house – and it does not include my brother’s. Maybe I should start including his with mine and my parents’ because he always takes my clothes out of the dryer when he needs it and just puts them on the counter without ever folding them. Then, I come by to pick up my warm and dry clothes to fold them, but they are in a wrinkled pile on the counter. In retaliation, I take his out of the dryer and throw them on the floor, putting mine back inside. This goes on and on, and he definitely needs to learn how to fold clothes – or how to be patient and wait for his turn with the dryer. Ahhh…boys…

Yes, it seems as though I am ranting on, but understand that I am addressing everyday annoyances. These are stories of my pain and suffering everyday of my life. (And yes, I know that I am being insanely dramatic.) It seems as though I cannot go a day without seeing the cast of High School Musical (and its damn sequel and sequel-to-be) smiling back at me from some corny poster or cheap little plastic backpack. Miley Cyrus (Hannah Montana grrr) also smiles back at me all the time, and I just wish I could punch her and wipe that stupid smile off her face. Disney Channel is a common annoyance.

To wrap this all up, my stinky cheeses also include getting slivers in my feet from our wooden deck, ch4t$p3@k, fingerprints and smudges on my glasses, and my dogs always whining to go outside when I am busy on the computer. My brothers come home from a baseball game that they just played in, and then tune the TV to channel 770 to watch even more baseball on the Yankee Entertainment Station. Haven’t we seen enough? Okay, almost done. BUT WAIT! Keep reading and you just might see my rant about infomercials and their annoying tactics and techniques. Keep reading my blog for the rest of your days and you will receive a thankful email via me. Everybody has stinky cheeses in their lives (swiss for me!) but I guess that we just have to roll with the punches. I have now reached over 1,000 words in this one “article.” Until I find out more things that irritate me greatly, this is it for now. Over and out.