L-o-v-e

I don’t lust after the big-time movie or pop stars. It’s not like I have a giant poster of Brad Pitt in my room. (I never said I didn’t have a shrine devoted to him.) I have never seen the point in “loving” someone when they don’t even know you exist. Stop wasting time and get out in the real world and meet a REAL guy.

There are only a few semi-famous men that I have drooled over. Oh sure, there’s that guy on TV every once in awhile and you say, “oh, he’s cute,” but you never bother looking up their name. This is different. I prefer the older men: thus Hugh Laurie and Hugh Jackman. The two Hughs. *drools*

I have been in “love” with Hugh Jackman ever since I saw the first X-Men movie years and years ago. Wolverine… *sigh*. The scene where we are first introduced to him and he doesn’t have his shirt on – it’s magnificent. Wolverine was never my favorite X-Men until I saw Hugh play the part. He’s my favorite actor in all of the movies. I absolutely “love” him.

Then there’s Hugh Laurie. I remember watching him as the bad guy in 101 Dalmatians, and of course I didn’t like him! I wanted the puppies to win against the bad men and Cruella. But oh, now that I’ve seen him on House…phew! I don’t care if he’s ancient compared to me, he’s handsome as hell, and a great actor on top of that.

I don’t profess my love for them unless I see them on TV or in a magazine or something. I don’t have posters of them in my room (though my friend drew me a picture of Jackman for me… *drools*) but that doesn’t mean I am not a fan. I don’t worship the ground they walk on and wish to purchase one of their used napkins off of Ebay. I’m not creepy like that. They’re attractive, I like them, they don’t have to like me, I’ll just stay content admiring from afar.

‘Tis the season

It feels good to be back in the swing of things. After taking two months off, I am back and hopefully will be better than ever.

Instead of going home to a TV chock full of possibilities and a cupboard of chips and unhealthy snacks, two of my best friends and myself go running everyday after school. After cross-country ended, we all sort of stopped. Now we have greeted running like an old friend we’ve missed greatly.

The feeling of running is like no other. That freedom; the endless possibility. The knowledge that though yes, cars and modern transportation are faster, our legs can also do the job just as well. Give us time and we will run for miles and miles.

Track is just around the corner, and I intend to make this year even better than last year (and last year was phenomenal for me). I feel great, running feels good, and the air just doesn’t smell as sweet as it does when you’re running. The heavy breathing, the struggling to talk to the person you’re running with – I’ve missed it greatly. I cannot wait for the Track season to begin. My intentions and confidence will take me far.

“We are going to pick ourselves up, and dust ourselves off”

Today my brother and I were supposed to be at the orthodontist at exactly twelve o’clock to let them torture us. My mother called the office yesterday and informed them that we would not be attending our appointment. We all wished to watch Barack Obama’s Inauguration.

Every classroom I entered today had either their TV or their SMART Board tuned into the news, watching this historical event.

In 7/8 period Global, we sat down and began writing the thematic essays for our mid-term examination. I finished mine, and sat twiddling my thumbs (well, I read) until my teacher, Mr. Leous decided it was finally time to turn on his TV. “You can put your essays away now,” he said.

We watched. And watched. And watched. I mouthed the Lord’s prayer along with the man who recited it, and then Aretha Franklin got up and sang her heart out. The bell rang just as she started singing, so my friend and I hustled to the Chorus Room, and turned on the TV. We stood around the piano until Mr. Lerew entered the room, switched the channel to a station without any static and told us we could watch it for the whole period as long as he could have five minutes at the end.

Biden became Vice President (when they said “would everyone please rise,” we rose and when Mr. Lerew came along and motioned for us to sit down, we simply told him that they told us to stand), and then came the short performance with the lovely violin and Yo Yo Ma on cello. My jaw dropped, and at 12:01 it was announced that though Obama had not been sworn in yet, he was now our new president.

His speech was beautiful. I hung onto his every word and was thanking God that it wasn’t Hilary I was listening to at that moment. The way he talks makes me believe that he is an extremely smart man – there were and are never any stutters or silences. I had tears in my eyes as he spoke, and was so relieved that he is our president. I feel so much better about our country now that he is in charge.

I will never forget that historical moment for as long as I live. I sat in a choir room filled with friends and watched the TV with such interest as the subtitles (which we attempted to take away, but to no avail) echoed everything he said. When I am older and my kids are learning about this moment from their history textbooks, I can smile and tell them that I witnessed it as it happened. I will always remember what happened today.

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!!!

The end

Today is over. It came and went. Everything that I predicted came true, but there were also a few twists.

I woke up at ten o’clock, just like any other gorgeous summer morning. I rolled around on my bed for a little while before I decided that it really was time to get up. No use wasting the day, right?

The sky today was crystal clear, as was yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. Absolutely no clouds in sight. I wallowed around the house, munching a bowl full of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and looking out the window. I finally stepped outside at one o’clock to get my hair cut.

I walked out of The Chop Shop (local hair place – run by a family friend) a whole new person, my hair shorter and more wild with curls. Of course, I had to ruin it by putting it into tiny little piggy tails for cross country practice.

Practice was hell. H-E-double-hockey sticks. We ran over to Prison Hill, and did hill repeats… In the blistering heat. We did six and then my friend and I ran back to the school together with our shirts lifted up, trying to catch even the slightest hint of a breeze.

I got home and took a dip in the pool (which was FREEZING), and then made breffast fo’ dinna. I barely had enough energy to enjoy the meal I had made, I was so wiped out from practice.

As promised, after dinner my mother drove me to the gravel pit to get a good view of the sun drowning in the sky. We had a hard time getting a good view without burning our eyes out of our sockets, but we eventually settled in and watched the sun disappear.

Now, here I am. My tummy is full, my body is tired, and my eyes are droopy with sleepiness. My hair is wild, my nails are perfectly groomed and polished, and my eyebrows have been plucked to perfection (by who else but moi?). My mother is talking on the phone behind me, I hear the sounds of the TV displaying baseball in the next room, watched by who else but my baseball-crazed dad. I can hear the movie my brother is watching from here because of the insane surround sound system he hooked up. I am tired, and there are noises all around me. I am so glad that I actually did keep my promise and watch the sunset, but now, all I want to do is curl up with a book and read until I am cross-eyed. My body is tired, and I am ready to retire to my bedroom where I will greet the new day. My friend instant messaged me and asked me if I am ready for hell tomorrow. I guess I will have to live through a day and decide whether this year will be hell or not. As of now, I really cannot judge.

Quote of the day:

“When it rains, it fricken pours!”

Tomorrow mourning

Tomorrow morning will arrive and announce itself as the last morning of vacation. Tomorrow will bring the first of many lasts.

I will wake up at around ten o’clock tomorrow morning and roll over, rubbing my eyes the whole time. I will then sit up and admire my newly cleaned out closet and maybe turn my iPod on for a minute and enjoy some of my favorite tunes. It will be the last morning where I can lazily creep out of bed and head downstairs without shooting worrisome looks at the clock. I will help myself to whatever food I can find in the kitchen, and then laze away by the pool or watch some TV until I have to attend cross country practice.

By this time tomorrow night, I will be in bed staring out my window. I will have already watched the sun go down, mourning the last sunset of my summer. The night bugs will provide a mournful chorus as I glance around my room and see my outfit all set out for the morning. Tonight is the last night that I can stay up until God knows when and then wake up late. The mellow drone of the bugs will lull me to sleep, and the next morning I will wake up to one of the carefully picked out songs bursting out of my iHome. I will then lie in bed for a full thirty minutes, wondering what awaits me when I enter that same old school building.

Food network: love and hate

For the last four years or so, I have been tuning in to channel fifty to enjoy me some cooking television. Right after school I would watch some Everyday Italian with Giada De Laurentiis, and then stay put for 30 Minute Meals with Rachael Ray. Rachael was always my favorite because she seemed like an everyday person even though she was on a television show that thousands enjoyed. Giada just makes everything sound delicious, even if I don’t like it. Like peppers, for instance. I absolutely LOATHE peppers, but Giada always makes them sound delicious when she is cutting them up. My love for the Food Network began years before Rachael Ray got her own prime time TV show and years before anyone even knew who Giada De Laurentiis was. My brothers made fun of me for watching the Food Network, but I kept on loving it.

With my love for Food Network came my love of cooking. I made dinner whenever I could, always preparing meals I liked so I would not have to eat anything I didn’t want to. Whenever my mom was busy and couldn’t make dinner, I stepped in and helped out. Rachael and Giada made it look so easy, but it was very challenging. Sometimes when I was home alone and preparing a meal, I would stand behind our kitchen island and pretend that I was on a cooking show. Learning to chop like they do was the most challenging, but I got it down and loved the noise my knife made against the plastic cutting board my mother bought me.

I still enjoy cooking, but I do not enjoy the Food Network as much anymore. I loved how Rachael Ray would wear clothes that would make me wonder what the heck she was thinking, but now she is “fashionable” and just not herself (in my opinion). I miss the crazy lady that set her hair on fire and made stupid jokes that I always laughed at. I miss her hair that was shoulder-length and brown with blond highlights. Now her hair has a stylish cut and color, but stylish just doesn’t suit her. Now, everyone knows who she is, and I think that she’s lost herself a little bit in the process. I miss the old Rachael and her kitchen before it got its recent makeover.

Giada has always been the “perfect one” out of my two favorite chefs, but lately she’s become even more perfect. More perfect than I can stand. I just tried to watch her 4:30 show a few minutes ago, but could not stand how big her smile was, or the way she was moving around.

I miss the way things were before Rachael was as famous as she is now, and when Giada wasn’t quite so perfect. I miss coming home from school and enjoying hours of my favorite Food Network shows. I miss my love of cooking that has somewhat diminished. I miss what today I am missing.