One month later

I can’t recall a month in my life that could possibly be happier than the one I just lived. Robby and I have been nearly inseparable for a month now, and I’ve loved every minute of it.

We’ve been together 11 times in the past 11 days. We see each other at least once a day, no matter what day it is. We do something different everyday, too, and we never have a plan. He comes over or I go over to his house and we just do whatever. It’s as simple as that. There is no prep time to take into account. We’ve watched a million movies, played a million games and had a million conversations. Last night, we walked my dogs and visited my grandparents before he watched me dominate in Guitar Hero in our “rumpus room.”

I’m always thinking about him and always get ideas for things to do for him. I got a great idea today while we were in Target after we went to the movies to see The Crazies (it was okay…just a little gory, but I had Robby there to protect me), but couldn’t tell him what it was. When he asked to know, I simply shook my head and said “you’ll find out soon enough!” He also has something he’s saving for today to celebrate one happy month together, and I cannot wait to see what’s in store!

We have so many plans. This week, we’re going four-wheeling with his dad (who is awesome) and in the very near future we’re going to go on camping trips with both his family and then mine. Summer will be great as long as he can come over everyday. We’ll spend the first month of vacation looking forward to those Yankees games in Cleveland we’re going to in late July with his dad, my dad and possibly one of my brothers.

Which reminds me of another thing. Our school’s baseball teams haven’t had a single game yet, but I’ve already seen Robby play baseball twice. The other day after track practice, I headed over to the baseball field and watched him play for an hour without him knowing. I saw his dad too, but neither of them knew I was there. When I went into the JV dugout to say goodbye to him, the look on his face was one I’ll never forget. When he told his dad later that I had been there, his reply was: “why didn’t she come over and see me?!?!?” That’s when I knew, once again, that I’ve got it good.

Right now I’m listening to my playlist of songs that remind me of him. I just can’t get enough. I’m pretty sure he fell asleep, because he was supposed to call me at one o’clock, but that’s okay. We have a whole day stretching out ahead of us once I get my research paper done today. I have no doubt in my mind that we’ll see each other. I love that.

An artist out at sea

I just saw a commercial for some stupid new reality TV show. Here I am, trying to escape my little sliver of the universe by turning on the tube and devouring some humor from The Big Bang Theory (I love nerds), and I get interrupted from doing so when all of these stupid commercials come on that are advertising some new reality TV show. It was something about a neighborhood that had a wall up around it. I didn’t catch the name. I was instantly bombarded by thoughts concerning how stupid TV has gotten that I was too sidetracked to remember the damn name.

There are too many of these shows to name. VH1 and MTV are chock full of ’em. They come up with a new one each week starring someone who lost on a different reality TV show. (Ex: I Love New York, Megan Wants A Millionaire, Daisy of Love, That’s Amore etc.) They start as one tiny twig and then branch off into a million other shows. And what about those Laguna Beach shows? As if the world’s population wants to watch spoiled little rich kids running around in the California sunshine. Unfortunately, these shows have viewers. I can assure you that I am not among them.

Sure, it might be fun to forget about your life and get a peek into someone else’s who is more privileged than you are, but is it really that fun? Fun enough to watch the show religiously and worship the people on it? Do the viewers know that probably half of the stuff isn’t even reality? And that in real life NO ONE looks like those people? I guess not.

When I watch TV (which isn’t often), it’s to be entertained by something that isn’t real. Something that could never happen. (Ex: SpongeBob draws with a pencil an artist out at sea dropped and the doodle comes to life.) It’s that kind of thing. I’m too busy trying to live my life to pause everything and watch someone else live theirs.

“Sexting – and common sense”

“Eighteen-year-old Jessica Logan of Ohio committed suicide after her boyfriend put her naked photos out in public, but it was also girls who bullied and harassed her. The girl who trusted was socially ostracized more than the boy who violated that trust” (Goodman).

I am all about having an opinion, and it just so happens that Ellen Goodman and I share one on this particular subject. This article has helped me confirm the undeniable conclusion that girls are stupid.

Teenage girls get so absorbed in their “significant other” that nothing else is important to them. When the boyfriend texts and says “hey babe can I get some pics?” the girl will usually be more than happy to oblige. She will think he wants me! and give in to anything he asks. Girls want to feel loved, and when a boy feeds a girl what she wants to hear, she is all his.

I have common sense. I think about the consequences of my actions before I go through with them. If I have to think about something for thirty seconds or more, it probably is not a very good idea. I would never take part in this “sexting” because A) it is a stupid thing to do, and B) I do not even own a cellular telephone. Trust is vital, and honestly, most teenage boys cannot be trusted.

The girls who do have trust in someone have to face the consequences they never fathomed before. What really gets me in a tizzy is that boys have a choice. They can be responsible for a girl’s pain, humiliation, and the baby growing inside of her one minute, and then simply walk away the next. The girl is scarred for simply trusting somebody, but the male involved has no visible boo boos.

“Let’s not forget the sexism in sexting” (Goodman). Yeah, don’t remind me.

I’m strongly against all things sexting. Nobody considers the future consequences anymore and it is a shame. One mistake can screw up the whole problem for you on a math test . . . or it can ruin your life; like it did for Jessica Logan.

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?

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…)

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).

What gives you the right?

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately. Mostly about life, death, murder, killing… etc…

Where am I going with this? Well…

I have been thinking about people that have taken another person’s life. Murderers, crazy people, people that should call a jail cell home as punishment for what they’ve done… What gives those people the right to take someone’s life away? Do they think that they are important enough to do something as horrible as that? How can someone stand up, point a gun at someone, shoot, and then still be able to live with themselves afterward?  I have future spreading out in front of me, or so it seems. What if I don’t? What if someone suddenly decides that they are good enough to take my life because they are not happy with their own? Yes, I am full of “what ifs,” but that’s just how I am.

I think guns should be illegal. Yes, they’re useful for hunting and whatnot, but these instruments can end someone’s life with the pull of the trigger – what gives a person the right to do that?

Don’t “go with the flow”

These days I live in a world where people quote lines from movies constantly. Maybe I am bitter about this because I do not tell stories or quote movie lines very well, but it gets annoying when I ask a question and someone responds with a line from Stepbrothers or Juno or The Dark Knight. It’s as if there are no more original thoughts anymore… it’s like everyone has their own personal screenwriter. I guess people just piss me off in general.

Am I the only person in this world with confidence? When I first brought my knitting to school, everyone laughed at me – but was I discouraged? No. I kept bringing it to school despite what people thought or think. If you like something, don’t be afraid to express it. Liking something makes you who you are and what’s wrong with showing who you are? Watch me walk down the hallway in what people call my “hooker” boots and my adorable Tripp skirt. Sure, people will stare, but do you know what they are really thinking? I think that they are wishing they could do something like that; dress like that; be who they really are. I can tell when someone has their shield up…and it’s kind of disappointing. I am kind of sick of taking the initiative. There are too many people that just “go with the flow.”

I have a friend who has changed a lot in the past year. Sure, I have changed too, but I haven’t changed what I believe in or my sense of humor or anything. My friend (he has been a friend for years) recently discovered his love for God. He goes to this church that sucks people in (at least, I think they do) every Sunday, and for the extra teen things that they do. I think of it as a cult. Going to church (should church be capitalized? ‘Cause I really don’t think it should be) so often has changed him completely. It’s as if he thinks he needs to be righteous all the time and do the right thing. If we gossip around him he gets pissed off. Oh, but when he wishes to gossip, it’s okay. I really miss who he was before he became super religious. Before he started bugging me about going to church. I feel like he has a wall up, and it needs to come down. I wish to knock it down, but we fight everyday over stupid things, and I never get the chance. I am very opinionated, and he can’t seem to accept my opinion, so he gets all cheesed off when I say mine. When he says his, I consider it. I don’t really know about him anymore. He is a completely different person these days. I don’t know what happened.

Anyway, yeah, people piss me off. Most people are selfish and it drives me nuts. I may not seem like it, but I think about other things besides myself. I am concerned about world hunger (which is why I visit the Free Rice website often), the economy – I was even thinking about how I was complaining about having to wake up early to go to school this week. Then I thought about it and here’s what I came up with: here I am complaining about going to school to be with friends when there is some kid who has to wake up early to go to school and gets beat up everyday and comes home covered with bruises that his/her parents don’t even notice. Yeah, suddenly waking up early to go to a place where I have friends and am at no risk whatsoever of being beaten up (unless I piss someone off) doesn’t sound too bad.

I have scratched the two resolutions I wanted to tackle. I can’t just quit everything cold turkey – I will ease into breaking free from my habits. Right now I am trying to be extremely thoughtful. And people still piss me off.