I got ice in my veins, blood in my eyes

I wish...I could take hockey pictures forever. That it was realistic to sit in the rink, and watch days upon days of hockey. To catch that awesome pass, or the moment of triumph when the final buzzer sounds.

Maybe it's because a job like that wouldn't really be growing up. It would be getting to relive my childhood, everyday. I remember being a kid, and watching the older people taking pictures at games of the team and their children. I think I liked to look through Connor's end of the year hockey CD's, bursting with pictures from team dinners to that awesome check or goal, more then he did most years.

I've gotta thank my momma though; for buying herself that beautiful Nikon. I'll always have a softspot for that camera, no matter how old it gets. I remember begging her to use it, all the time. Finally, she did. And it's all history from there.

When I first started using my mom's camera, all I can remember is the pure joy I felt. Getting to carry it in to the rink in it's padded case, and standing at the railing with the strap snuggly around my neck. Taking picture after picture after picture. Going home and putting them all on the computer and getting to look at my creation. It made me feel a part of the hockey experience, since so much of revolved around getting Connor fed and to the right location at the right time, with me just tagging around waiting for the game to start. It gave me a purpose, and something to look forward to besides getting to eat out three times the day of the trip.

I used to scour the rink for the perfect vantage point, usually trying to get behind the benches. I stood on ladders, and bleachers. I took pictures over the glass, through the glass. Goalies, forwards, defense, coaches. You name it (or them), I probably have at least 10 pictures.

I think that's where I caught the photography buzz. Once I started at the rink, I started taking pictures everywhere. I don't know how many times my mom would start her camera and find pictures of the dogs filling up her memory card. I mean, granted, she now encourages my photo taking but I don't think she was exactly pleased when I started.

I loved it then, and I love it now. I can't even begin to describe the feeling I get when I know it's time to get my camera ready for another weekend at the rink. Over a thousand pictures? No bigs. Small amount for three games actually. Something about knowing that hockey seasons starting just jump starts my buzz again. Once I start bundling up, I find the joy of taking pictures everywhere again. It's like my creative block gets lifted. Because the rink's always the same. But always different.

I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have my wonderful family to help me purchase my own camera. I tell everyone it's my baby and to be honest? Besides Princess, it really is. And I'm very lucky to have my family who puts up with my obnoxious amount of documentation. I guess they know how much pictures in general mean to me. Someday's though, I wish I had figured it out sooner. There are a lot of memories I wish I had to hold in my hand. But moving on.

I always kind of wondered where I wanted to take my photography. If I wanted to do senior portraits, or flowers, or even dog pictures. I'd love to do them all, but after this weekend, I know for sure where my heart really lies.

In the rink.

But tonight I'm gonna give in one last time.

Falling like a rainstorm

I'm a week away(ish) from finishing my third semester at college. Right now, I should be hunkered down, devouring Ramen noodles and reading political science. However, I'm trying to find EVERYTHING and ANYTHING to not study and not have to accept one more notch in my 'Emily's almost a grown up' tally.

I'm writing blogs, watching TV, dancing, taking pictures. I'm even thinking about exercising. Though thats more due to the fact I need to find a better stress reliever then eating.

As much as I don't miss this summer in some respects, I miss getting home from work and going out to just forget everything for a little bit. As much as I hated it then, I'm counting down the days until I can throw on my sneaks and just hit the pavement again. I mean, I should probs still be hitting up the PEIF in hopes that when the snow does thaw I don't die from my fat, but hey. One step at a time.

Maybe I'm craving it right now as another procrastination tool. I think I'm missing more of the fact that running outside stopped my brain for a little bit. I don't know if you've figured it out yet, but I think. A lot. A lot more then I even put out here. Probably a lot more then anyone who knows me realizes. It's a crappy thing, having a mind that works overdrive.

ADD, maybe. Bored, yes. Tired of school, even more so.

I hear in my mind all of these words

I'm not sure why, but a sudden theme has seem to appear in my life. I guess it's something that I've always kind of known, a trait that has always been a part of me. I try and ignore it generally but I guess its time to accept it. It is me ( to an extent) and it's better to embrace it then hate it....right?

Hi, my name is Emily and I am an intimidating person.

I've come to accept it, sort of. It's one of those things that only comes around when I'm meeting new people, chatting up a new boy or in my leadership groove. I mean, at least that's when I notice it the most. I find that once people get to know me, they are less apt to be afraid to speak to me.

Heck, sometimes I love it. I love that I can be seen as a 'force'. Not just one of those ditzy skuts who can't stand on her own two feet. Though I'm not sure my intimidation factor comes just from how well I can stand. I trip more sober then I've seen drunk people trip. Just saying.

I guess it's something I've never asked about, and I've just grown to accept. That I am 'intimadating' and that is the end of it. I guess maybe I'm a little afraid to know what it is about me that makes intimidating. What about me screams 'DAMN BOY! DON'T MESS WITH THAT!!'.

Is it my 'swagger'? Or my reserved facial expressions that I sometimes adopt while in stressful situations. Is it the fact that I'm sure of my opinions and morals and standards, and have no qualms voicing it if something feels wrong? I try not to be too overbearing though, so I don't think it can be that one at least.

So what is it. I get that I don't put up with bull, and I walk like I know I'm in charge. But besides that.....

Whatever. In the end, I guess WHY I'm intimidating doesn't matter. I guess what matters is who I intimidate, and how I use this new found specialty. All for good and none for evil would be the correct answer I'm assuming.

I looked at him and suddenly I had a feeling that everything around me was in focus.

I've been here many times before

I hate that I trust people so easily.

I hate that I assume that they are as just as good of a person as I am (not to be egotistical)

I hate that I think that they won't hurt me. Won't leave me in the dust in the pursuit of something beyond the fence. That they won't just use me as a stepping stone and leave me bruised and dirty after helping them get to where they want.

I'm feeling sarcastic, and bitter. I know it's slightly entertaining for others to hear me speak when I'm feeling like this. But what scares me is the fact they think it's funny...but I know it's true. That I may be peppering in a few more profanities then usual, but that's whats on my mind. What I think. How I'm thinking. I don't try to censor myself in that regard. I prefer to be not waste time keeping it in.

Heck, for all I know, you can hear my voice through these words. Hear that I'm hurt, and that I'm pissed.

Hell, I've been listening to Lil Wayne all day because his words translate my thoughts, and the embody my bitterness. I know some people don't view rap as music, and maybe it isn't. But if you take time to listen to the words, the Great Wayne has some really great points.

'Gonorrhea' for example.....

Lifes a bitch naw, better yet a dumb broad

or

Yeah I call it how I see you. I wish I never met you, I wouldn't wanna be you. 

Or 'Drop the World'

Hate in my heart, love in my mind

I seen nights full of pain, days of the same

You keep the sunshine, save the rain

I search but never find, hurt but never cry

I work forever try, but I'm cursed so never mind

So yeah. Maybe that was a useless way to get my point across. But whatever. I value words and Lil Wayne drops them like a boss. I can appreciate good art when I see it. He's got sarcasm to rock even the best of them. 

I'm getting off topic though. Point is, I'm feeling bitter today because I'm tired of not being able to trust people. How hard is it to be upfront, and honest? 

How hard is it to just be real. 

When I'm with somebody, all I think bout is you

I guess I've found my answer. The thing that's been troubling me for seconds among minutes, hours beyond days, and for weeks that fill the months.

I'm afraid to grow up.

It has to be a natural thing, something that everyone fears. Why else would Peter Pan fly away to Never Never Land, and why else would there be adults that still act like children? Who actually really ever wants to step out on their own, and take control. Being a child is easy. All you have to do is look cute, and have someone around to take care of you.

I want to grow up, but wanting and being afraid to seem to collide. I want to be successful, have my own dog and be able to buy any size TV I want without worrying about the money, but I'm still afraid. I'm afraid that I'll blunder out there among those who've already found their success. That I'll trip, and biff it into a world of grown-updom that ins't fun, or worthwhile. That I won't make it, and be so far down that I won't even be able to fake it. That I'll be part of the 99% who blame everyone else for their failures, instead of being the 99% who made their life to their prior expectations.

It doesn't help that college is that awkward time where you aren't really a grown up, at least not to your parents, and especially not in reality of how you act. But seeing as you can be legally charged as one for your public drunkenness, or rowdy behavior, you are 'technically' defined as one. You live 'on your own' for extended periods of time, in the dorms, or apartments or houses, with Mom and Dad a phone call away in case you've got a question. It's got to be what a dog feels like. When it's attached to a leash.... but the leash isn't secured to anything besides the open air trailing behind it.  At any moment, you can be hauled right back to childhood, where Momma makes you a sandwich and Dad helps you put your  favorite movie in the VCR. Safety, yes. The real world? Only for those who live in their parents basements and sponge off of them until the day they die.

My parents already set the ground rules on that. To be honest, I would be disappointed in myself if there wasn't a day in the  future where I could comfortably stand on my own two feet, supported by steady work and a successful path ahead of me. Someday, I'd like to be able to help out my parents as they help out me, and how they help out my grandparents. I can't do that if I'm using their money while living in the basement.

It's the getting there. The shouldering of the responsibility. The taking control of my life, and though being influenced by those who have opinions who I value, decide for my own.

Cause that what the key seems to be. To be an adult, I've got to buck up and just do it.

So yes. I'm afraid. Of many things that come along with the American Dream of Success (though mine is, as of now that is, lacking a husband and 2.5 children. A dog and a house with a picket fence could be nice though). But that's life. There is always going to be something challenging me, and making me re-evaluate the choices I've made, or will be making.

That's the way things go. So as much as I'm afraid, maybe it's time to just face the music. Cause as great as it would be for Peter Pan to sweep me off my feet, the only thing actually waiting for me is real life.

It's 5 o'clock in the morning

One day when the sky is falling, I'll be standing

I think I could start hating dreams.

I really, really think I could. Not just dreams, as in the aspirations of where I want to end up in life, but dreams as in my subconscious movie theater.

Yes, I've had good dreams. The kind where when you awake, you squeeze your eyes shut just to catch one more glimpse of the fields of happiness you were just in. But I've been getting my share of ones I don't want. Where the ghosts of past decide to appear, and make choices in both worlds a bit more complicated.

It's almost to the point where I don't want to sleep. I don't want to know whats endlessly plaguing me. I think about it often enough awake. Why do I need to spend my few hours of totally carefree slumber mulling over things I've spent the past week, month, year, lifetime thinking about.

Not to mention dreams as in my plans for life. Those suck too. Just as soon as I think I've got it all figured out,   my mind begins to bunny hop again. Well maybe this, or I could do this! It seems to come around especially after I've had a particularly awkward dream during the night.

I think too much, and don't write enough.

Now I don't even know myself....Do I want too?

I'm having some trouble accepting things right now in the world. I can't seem to grasp the different things that are going on around me, or the actions that people in my life are choosing to take.

I know that I can't change the world, or make everything fit into the ideas that I have in my own head.

                                   But with that,  I also know when to give a little, and accept things. Accept ideas from others, and be open to whatever comes my way. To take criticism, or helpful hints (I'm working on taking it politely) and be open to new ideas. To try out new thoughts, or adventures, or lifestyles...well to some extent on the lifestyles part. Drugged out hippies not my cup of tea to taste test.

However, I'm having trouble accepting the fact that other people can't be as open to the whole picture as I strive to be myself.

I don't mean to preach. I know that I'm no God send of a person myself. I have my faults,  and that I can openly admit. I swear too much, have strong morals and can be very selfish, especially when it comes to helping out my mother on occasions.

However, there are some things I pride myself on; those little things that set me apart from my peers. For example, my want to do everything better and go that extra mile no matter how tired I am. To not say no, and to do my best to help out. To not leach off of other peoples hard work, and to carry my own weight. To have my moments to bitch and moan, but when it comes down to it know that I did everything I could possibly do, and if no one else does there isn't much I can do. I did what was right and deep down, I'll be able to sleep at night.

I don't want to point fingers. I'm not blogging to trash people online. It's just that my frustrations killing me. I've been trying so hard to accept that things are the way they are; that I'm doing all I can. To not let the little things dig deep into my subconscious. To know that I can't control the fact that things are not the way they once appeared.

I've gotten an overload of information in the past couple of weeks. All about the human race as I know in general. Young people, old people,  people I've know forever, and people I've just recently met. You name it, I feel like I've suddenly gotten a light bulb moment concerning it.  I feel like I've been looking through one of those broken glass cups. I'm sure you've seen them before. It's purposely cracked, to refract the light in different ways and make things appear differently. And now, all of a sudden, the cracks are gone. And what I thought was one way, is now completely different.

Part of me now, as sad as it makes me to say, is seeing why the older generation is worried about us. It makes me sad that we as a whole have yet to realize the potential we have. Even the so called elite among us I feel like aren't going outside their own world. That they aren't looking beyond themselves and the five hours they spent yesterday working, while many have spent five hours daily for weeks on the same thing.

It's not just us though. Not just those of us from the late 80's, early 90's.  I've seen just as much selfish behavior coming out of those who've been around the blocks a couple of times, if you know what I mean.

It's not your right to get to be selfish for so long, and then suddenly 'see the light'. I've had to see the light for quite awhile when it comes to you, so why do now you get to switch out the light bulb? Why do now you get to decide how I should view the rest of the world through my glass house now. The walls were the pink of innocence, and now I'm becoming so jaded and shaded I can barely see through the grey fog that surrounds it.

It worries me that I've become jaded, and unable to accept these things. I'm 19. Shouldn't I get to believe the best in people for a little bit longer? Get a little bit more time to run through the fields of poppy's, and kick up the dirt in my red sparkly slippers.

I guess I'm not jaded. I guess what it comes down to is that I look at these people and wonder, 'Is this what I'm like too? Is this what they see when they look at me?'

And I think that's what worries me most. That what I see in others is also in me. That these things I cannot accept emanate from me just as much.

How can I make a difference if I'm part of the problem?

But I'd much rather be somewhere with you

It's funny how traits you see in yourself, can be seen so differently by others.

What I would call relaxed, others see as bro.
What I see as emotional, others see as crazy.
When I see my artistic side, others see as awkward.
What I think is junk, others see something good.

It's like when you see a video of yourself, or a picture that you didn't know someone took of you. You notice the little things, while others take in the whole picture.

Or when you wear a new swimsuit in public. You see the rolls on your back, others see how cute your suit is.

I guess the best way to describe it is that I see myself in a fun house mirror. What I see can't be what everyone else sees. If it was, things would be different. Some things for the better, but the same amount for the worst.

So what do you pick. To listen to yourself, or others? Or where do you find the delicate balance where you accept both views, and mesh them together in your mind to make up the collage that probably is the most like you.

When do you start to take the good with the bad, and just know that no ones perfect. Because like I said before, in the end, the only person you're going to be with forever is yourself and if you don't understand them, no one will.

The only issue with my logic is how do you know if you're version of yourself is true?

Tryin' to figure out the time zones makin' me crazy

I hate when I can't find my words.

I hate when it feels like there is a stone wall holding up the passage between my words and the thoughts they form.

In life, it feels like the only thing I have control over most days is my words. So when they don't come, I don't know what to do. I can feel them pushing against my cranium, trying to get out. But what am I supposed to do when I can't find them the door? It feels like just one more failure, one more door I couldn't get open.

I know thats life. At least, the sane part of me understands that sometimes you've gotta lose, and that sometimes as much as you try, you can't fix or control everything. But there's always this part of me, that thinks maybe I can. Maybe if I just do a little more, or try a little harder, I'll be able to do it in the end.

So here I am. Pounding my head in frustration because I can't get my words out. I need to get them out, to lay them down and analyze them. All that happens when they're stuck up in there is that I can't figure out where one ends and the other one begins. It's how I'd imagine a being in a bomb would feel like. You've got all these excited atoms, bouncing around and colliding and thrashing so fast you can't tell which ones which. Until all of a sudden....

   BOOM! Impact happens, and the dust is flying. Then, and maybe not even then, after the smoke clears the rubbles spelling it out. Disaster. Straight up.

Hence, I want to get them out. Put them down, in lists, in poems, in blog posts. Anywhere. Just somewhere I can't get judged, and I can sort through it all.

But I can't. I can't get my words together. I can't get them to say what I want. I can't get them to make sense. I can't get them to get the message across. I know this looks like a message, or an idea, or a thought. But it's really not.

This isn't the teenage angst inside of me boiling up. This is Emily, the pseudo adult. That in between before I have to attempt to have a real life, and figuring out what my real life is going to consist of.

This sucks.

I'm a little dysfunctional, don't you know?

I'm having my mid-college crisis. Maybe it's just another one of those Emily thinks's its a crisis and its really not...but I'm pretty sure it actually is this time.

I'm over halfway through my third semester at college, and I have finally started to realize what I want. Sort of not really.  I know that being an electronic journalism major is not where I want to be though, that's for sure. Which sucks, but I guess its good that I realized that now before I was chest deep in the all of classes and just gave up. At least I know when I'm  close to being really dumb. However, I'm not in that no mans land of the 'Well...then what do I want to be?" I've been thinking and here's where I'm at right now.

I don't want to be a doctor, or a nurse or anything like that. I don't like blood, or drugs or any of that. I had debated about being a psychologist, but lets be honest here: I'd  go Dr. Phil on them. Which probably isn't appropriate when you don't have your own TV show to do so on.

I do NOT want to be a teacher in high school or anything below that either.  I think I could handle being a professor at the collegiate level...but the question that comes with that,  is in what? I have to still find something to specialize in to become a teacher. I can't just be a life coach. That would be reallyyyy cool if it could work like that.  'Welcome to Life 101!'. Hah more like 'Welcome to Failure 101"

I wish I could just be a inspirational speaker. Not Chris Farley style on SNL, but like a totally legitimate one. I could write books about my experiences and totally be the next Buried Life...except a I'd be a girl. And by myself with out a cool posse with sweet accents.

Maybe I could stop wearing shoes and donate all the money I would spend on them to homeless chipmunks. That would be a good inspirational topic.

OK, so thats stupid, but I mean really now. How many people become famous and get to be inspirational speakers these days over stupid things like that. Yes, I might be just a little bit bitter. But I feel like I could do just as good or better with what life experiences I have right now compared to some of the people out there.

But in the end, I guess it kind of boils down to part of a quote I found while doing a research paper on Nellie Bly. What she said really made me think...and made me realize that it's kind of me in a nut shell.

‘I want to write. And I want my writing to make the world better for lots of people. I want to work and I want to do it as an individual, and not be treated as if I weren’t up to a real job because I’m a woman.'

So that's where I am. I want to write. But now where can I go with that?

A reason to start over new

Why do you lock yourself up in these chains?

So today was brother-sister bonding day while the rents are off being good people. Today's brother sister bonding really translated into sitting together, watching five movies in a row, and eating obscene amounts of really terrible food. All in all, a successful day, that's for damn sure.

As the night wound down, we ended on our last movie for the night; 'Bridesmaids'. A fantastic movie, though a bit raunchy at times. However, I somehow still manged to garner a deeper meaning from it. 

In general rules for myself, I have high standards not only for myself, but for the people I associate with. I like to take charge, and know that my life is what I made of it. However, I can honestly say I've hit a slump. I can't say I'm depressed, or even anything close. I guess I'm just feeling down. Rather then my normal just get on up and keep trucking, I've been taking the lame route and just blame the world for me being sucky. 

But something Megan's character said hit me, and it was all I could do not to start blogging right then. She said:

"I don't associate with people who blame the world for their problems. You are your problem. You are also your solution.

It kind of amazed me how she could put my whole (normal) mindset into such a compact, deep phrase. Because its' true. You are your own problem. Yes, sometimes life gives you lemons because the person you're in love with doesn't love you back, or your creepy roommate keeps watching you while you sleep. However, its not the problem that really matters; its the reactions. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I'm pretty sure that physics but don't quote me on that one. I'm just an Electronic Journalism Major over here.

Moving on before I lose my train of thought though...For every action, an equal and opposite reaction. So you get dealt a crappy hand. One that involves some awkward scenarios and probably a couple crying fits. But its' not what you get stuck with, but what you do with it. I know, again with all that self empowerment crap but really....its what it all comes down to. What are you going to be able say you did at the end of the day. 

And I can't say anymore that I did nothing, and that I felt sorry for myself. I'm not that person. I am becoming my problem. I need to get off my ass and give it up. No one else is out there (at least I don't think so) that's attempting to make my life crappy. I need to grow up, and stop my over analyzing. I need to realize that for being some one who has high standards for others, I need to check myself at the door and stop being the problem, but become the solutions.

Because how in the hell am I supposed to help make a difference in other peoples lives when I can't even make one in my own?

Tell me that we belong together

I want to write a bucket list. But I don't want to just make a stupid one, filled with things like 'Drink a King size smoothie in less then 10 minutes' or 'Learn how to skin a squirrel'. All things I'd like to eventually learn, but I'd rather be able to share something a little bit more substantial then that. To show that besides being awkwardly and obnoxiously sarcastic, I do think about things at times.

I was inspired after the Buried Life came to my college and gave us a presentation. Totally and completely stereotypical, I know. But come on. How many times in a persons life do they say 'I'm searching for my passion, and all I need is some inspiration." So I just happened to get my light bulb moment (or twitch of a light bulb moment) at their presentation.

I hear it all the time, and I know I say it all the time too: I just don't know what I want to do with my life. I want to make a difference, be a difference. Be a leader, and save the starving kids in Africa. So these attractive Canadian dudes found it by making this project: To make a bucket list, and do whatever it takes to cross things off. Not to mention, along the way they would help others try and cross things off of theirs. Deep right? It all started with a bucket list.

So why can't I find out what might work for me through my own bucket list? So, time to kick off my new long term project.

To start it off though...

1. Get paid to blog
2. Write the next great american novel
3. Be able to take my grandma to Sweden
4. Learn how to play the trombone
5. Volunteer to help diabetes research

Every little thing that you do, baby I'm amazed by you

                                                                   

And it's all in my head, I think about it over and over again

What is a leader? How can you define that, that 'special' characterstic in a person that people think gives them power.

Where do you go from becoming an ordinary individual to one who actually made a difference? And where does the line fall between a small difference, a large difference, a mediocre difference? And who decides if what you did passes the test to join the ranks of Ghandi?

You hear so much about those leaders; the ones like Martin Luther King, and JFK, and Oprah, or even Michelle Obama. So where do their accomplishments become something more, and they get carved into history as 'fearless leaders' and those who 'challenged the way'. So they made a difference. Yes. Or tried valiantly. But I'm still stuck on how they knew they could, or who said they did and walked away?

I get that being a leader that doesn't mean you have to be recognized. To be humble, and know that at the end of the day, you did what you thought was right and helped everyone you could. I get that, so why is it a hard concept for others? I feel like everyday instead of being pushed to be a quiet leader in my own way, I'm being pushed to be the next great -(you fill in the blank here).

Where do people get it in their minds that to be a leader, they have to make the news, or have their voice radiating over every one else's at every.single.meeting. Not that I'm bitter. I'm very glad that some people have already found out that they are the 'chosen one'; Meant to lead the rest of us dim witted college students across the sea and into a land where we go about making the world a better place.

Why the inherent need to focus on how many times they get awards for being a leader, rather then the quiet 'Thank You' from the girl down the hall whose been crying every night since she moved to school? I think that those who work to be better than they can be, then those who work to be better to gain the achievement in the long run find something more valuable from their leadership.

They begin to value what they do for others rather then what others can give them for what they did.

I'm holding my heart back together

Just when we think we’ve figured things out, the universe throws us a curve ball. So we have to improvise, we find happiness in unexpected places, we find our way back to the things that matter the most. The universe is funny that way, sometimes it just has a way of making sure we wind up exactly where we belong.

Fate.

What exactly is it, and is it actually real? Where does a higher spirit step in, or when does stuff literally happen because that's the way the wind happened to blowing. Is it actually the Greek goddess chilling with their slimy eyeball and hair to cut your life short? Or is your life just one big game of chance starting from the day you were born and your mom named you Randolph?

 The dictionary says:

Fate: The will or principle determining cause by which things in general are believed to come to be as they are or events to happen as they do.

What does that even mean? The will...like as in the will in yourself? I know I've always heard stories about peopling dying just because they have lost the will to live when their heart breaks, or cat dies, or whatever.

Or is it the will of those around you? Is your life not shaped by you, but by what others do around you. Do you not shape your own life but everyone else s you come in contact with?

Where in the world does 'the will' come in. And how can a will be comparable to a principle? Here's my definition as interpreted from the lame dictionary definition:

Fate: That force of the unknown that makes your life the way it is.

Then comes this fuzzy line between faith and fate that goes along with every conversation on this topic. For me, sometimes it's hard to justify believing in faith. As a society, religion is a highly controversial topic. Many believe that fate is not fate, but a higher power, usually named God. My question on that is where does his/her input end and the winds of the world take over? With almost seven billion people living on planet earth, how is one being supposed to remember every mundane thing that happens to us each and every minute of our lives?

Yes, the argument goes to the fact that 'it' isn't just a normal being but it still confuses me. I'd like to believe that I've got someone looking out for me, telling me what things to do and what to know as I go into them. But how do I know that God knows me from Joe Schmo living above me on Halverson? I think my life is important, and so does my mom. I'm sure that there are others as well, but whose to say that some of the people reading this have any care in what goes on in my life. For all I know, you could be some kid Stumbling  because your sociology class got boring.

I guess...I think its fate. That there may or may not be some higher power, but all that he does is set me up with some major obstacles to hit in my life that have to do with other people and besides that? He lets fate take over. Why care how I get there as long as I get there with the knowledge I need to know? So many things in life come down to 'Wow, that was a lucky save. You could have almost died.' I think Fate is one God's little minions who helps me out. I think that she's the one who sets the stage, and just attempts to get across the moral they decided to give me.

Fate is fate is fate. Life happens for a reason and weather we actually ever figure out how it works or not, the world will continue to live.

We’re all just hu­man, don’t waste your time

Dear Emily in her freshman year of college,

This is Emily from September 20th, 2011. Sadly, I feel like I failed this going back in time thing to help you out this year, but you know what? I'm still going to grade you. Because maybe if I remind you, you won't make the same mistakes again.

First Mistake: Getting a boyfriend/finding a man friend the first week of school. Or just poor choices in picking boys in general.
       Poor choice Emily. Just saying. I mean really? I know you had quite the lackluster love life in high school, but what in the hell made you think that you could change that all in the first 48 hours of being here at school? Next time, when you meet a guy, make sure you get to know him before you decide that you're meant to be or whatever that crap is you pulled last year. For obvious reason's I'd rather not go into detail but in all reality, he was an ass. Straight up. So please maybe try a bit harder to realize that you need a guy who can challenge you, not bring you down. Like he said, you're going somewhere, and you need someone with you whose going to support that, not try and keep you back with him. Also, realize that just because it makes him feel good to have you dependent on him, you most definitely do NOT need to.
       Grade: D

Second Mistake: Not being respectful of fire
         Come on kid. Really? Self explanatory. Please think next time you're holding a lighted candle near your very flamable hair. Just saying. It's been almost a year and your hair has only just recovered.
     Grade: C+

Third Mistake: Not taking all opportunities
You're greatest weakness is your fear to do things. Make commitments and do things. Even if it only sounds somewhat fun, do it anyways. Everything's a learning experience. Make friends with all the girls in your house, not just the ones your friends think you should. Strike up a random conversation and make some ones day a little brighter. Try and think of things more of as what can I give to this experience then totally what can I take away? You're at the age now where its time to begin the give and take game.
       Grade: B-

Fourth Mistake: Refusing to say how you feel
     Your ex-roommate would be a prime example. Sometimes, it hurts to say the truth. You care a lot about others opinions of you, and you try not to knock on peoples feelings. You care but sometimes you need to remember its OK to care about yourself too. Rather then build up resentment or sad feelings, sit them down. Talk it out, work it out, whatever. It just makes things so much harder to have things stuck inside. Yes, it is constructive to write sometimes, but that's not going to be able to solve everything for ever.
       Grade: C+

Fifth and Final Mistake: Having too much fun
   You walked out of that dorm room last year having one of the greatest experiences of your life. You grew up, and though you stumbled a bit while you went through all the above mistakes, I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to top this year. Well actually, I do know. I'm going to work on everything I mentioned up there and continue doing the fantastic things you started last year.
      Grade: A+

Live it up, drink it down and go to bed each night knowing you did everything possible to make this the next greatest year of your life. Now, stop reading this and go out and start living it up right now.

Peace.Love.Vu.
Emily

Suck it up buttercup, the sun comes around eventually.

I've been creeping through all my awkward 'journal entries'.  I guess that's what you might call them; those Word Documents tucked safely away on my hard drive, which delve deep in the secret recess of my mind. Those things that I have to really trust you before I tell you any part of it, let alone me putting it up for the whole internet to read. Some are sad, some are angry. Some are just thoughts I guess I just needed to let out.

I won't lie though...they make me laugh now. To look back, and hear my own sarcasm bubbling back up through they type face. It's a wonder I even wrote it without my computer catching on fire from the lighter fluid dripping off of each sentence. It seems I also enjoyed the explicit word or ten. It's almost like stepping into the Wooden Nickel on a Friday night in some of these paragraphs.

"I’m pissed. Straight up. I’m not even going to lie about it. I put enough pressure on myself in my everyday life to succeed, to be a good friend, to do what I know is right. Why do I need your technological rants about why I suck?"

I guess its better that I use my passive agression somewhat constructively. That I take these thoughts and mold them into paragraphs of rambles. I mean, it's kind of a ramble this blog post, even I can tell that. But whats the point of having 'a creative mind' if there is no room for a ramble here or there?

Anyways. I guess that fact that I can use my words, both in the technological world and in the real world will serve me some day. The fact that I can blatantly showcase my opinions without this awkward beating around the bush. That I feel secure enough in myself as a person to put my feelings out there, and know that though they may not all be appreciated, they are respected for the thought I put behind them.


"It can’t be all bad to be a nun can it? I mean, look, Maria in the sound of music was happy. Oh, wait. Just kidding.  She found the man of her dreams and ran off into the mountains with his seven children singing happy songs about why lifes great. Screw.That. I’m so done." 

It gets me hurt sometimes, the fact that I can and will put my feelings out there. But what can you do? I think I'd rather be hurt because I voiced my opionins and tried to do something for the good of the order rather then sit back and hope someone else does it for me.

In the end, I write to keep sane. And I think it's best for the whole world if I continue too.

If you want it, come and get it.

There are over a billion people in the world, and over three million of those people in the United States alone. So how can one person matter so much? How can one person have the power to make or break your day. How can that one person be able to shred your heart with a single harsh word, or a lack of a text. Or that make and fake a plan.

I find it interesting, the people to people dynamics in the world. How much we depend on one another, and the gratification we can get from having some sort of relationship with someone. Not a legit significant other, lets date and be committed relationship, but even friendships, acquaintanceship, etc.The want to have someone there overwhelms us completely at times.

Part of it is animal instinct. That roll of your gut that takes your common sense away from you. It switches your life so fast, you never even realized you went from everyday run of the mill Emily, to Emily who knows what she wants. That goes more along with significant others, but I've had it happen with friends before. Lots of times.

The other part? I'd say is how we've been raised. People are put under stigmatization  for being alone; for refusing to make that commitment So what he isn't everything you've ever dreamed of? It's better him then to be what you want, which would be alone.It's better friends to be flaky slut then to be the kid that eats lunch in the bathroom by herself. No one wants to be friends with the crazy chick. Just saying.

So with these three million people, how do you know? When do you know? How do you decide to let go and not care anymore. To let fate sweep you off your feet to the places where everything's sunshine and you can have friends because you want and you don't feel obligated to do it so you don't become an outcast? When do you value your you time more than your us time.

When do you give in to the fact that with three billion people in the world, you won't ever be alone?

Wouldn't you say you were lonely and love was breaking your heart?

Yesterday in my Leadership theory class, we did book reviews. Utterly boring, and I'm not going to lie about it. However, I did hear a thought that sparked that light and kept me awake most of the night. Again. As usual.

A girl was talking about her book, the title of which I cannot remember, and said something. Something that I interpreted as deep. She said that in her book, the author stressed instead of wondering why people are put into your life for your benefit, why are YOU put in peoples lives to help them. 

Different huh? Made me think about it. Why have I been focusing all this time selfishly on why I get these people as part of my life when maybe...I'm here for them. That I somehow have some sort of information for them. That though I need people in my life, that I'm working here to bring something else for others as well. My awkward dry sense of humor, or maybe my understanding that people need to be who they are no matter what being that person means. 

And the more I thought and do think about it, it makes more sense about why I'm here then why they are here. I mean, I also think it goes both ways. Being a part of someones life legitimately is a give and take type of relationship. You give a little, take a little, have a chat, form a bond. I learn just as much from people around me as I can now see they learn from me. 

Maybe that's why I'm in the Vu. To learn from these girls, while they learn from me. Not to mention Momma Bear. It's like what, week three? And I've already had so many FANTASTIC chats that I can barely wrap my head around it. 

I guess its almost like that age old theory that there are three sides to every story: Your story, their story, and the truth. Maybe no one will ever know if fate actually plays a part in who appears when and where in your life. Who knows who gets the most of a life? You or your friend, significant  other, roommate, wall mate, life mate? 

I guess. I need to focus more on giving then taking; that life happens for a reason and I need to accept that. I accept I am here to do something and help whoever it may be. I can't fight it, anymore than anyone else can. It's the circle of life in a less bloody form. 

Dreams only last for a night

Success is the ability to go from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm

So as I attempted to be a mentor today, I used this quote to prove a point. I just found it while doing some assigned reading (joyous, I know) and I already appreciate it quite a bit. 


This girl whom I was talking to is having some trouble figuring things out; she's scared to make the leap and go into the unknown. It was funny to see her face, go from so happy to terrified, just because she couldn't envision changing herself that much. To go from whom she's always thought she's been, to something new she's discovered in college. Rather then tell her what to do, I told her I'd write her an inspirational blog post. Me telling her what I think she should do wasn't going to do anything besides creep her out. So here it goes. These are my words of wisdom, my attempts at being a leader in some form. To show her, and all the other girls why I want to be President (and it's not just for a power trip) 


        Here's my quote of the day.

Success is the ability to go from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm.

       Just because something might not work out doesn't mean you shouldn't try. Give it all you've got and hope to hell that someones going to be there to catch you when you make the jump. I know I'll be there, whether or not anyone else is. You're never going to know unless you try, and you're always going to wonder if you do. I learned it the hard way; through the struggle of not trusting my own instincts and doing what felt right. I've hurt, disappointed, wallowed, you name it; I did it. And it sucks. Big time.
        So rather then wait for someone to hold your hand, or for someone to get tired of waiting for you to jump, just do it. Give into the thrill of knowing you're 18, at college, and discovering things about life you've never even thought about. You are strong, and wonderful. And you can do it. Yeah, I know while you're reading this you're probably laughing at the ridiculousness at this whole empowerment thing but someones got to tell you. I came back to the Vu to tell all of you guys this. Yes, I didn't know any of you, or had any idea what was going to happen but I did it. Because someone did it for me when I was in your shoes.
         You deserve that. You deserve the chance to have the opportunity I did, and you deserve the chance to  make your college experience everything that mine has been. To make friends with your wall mates, and go on midnight Wal-Mart runs. To jump off Black Rocks with your suite mates, go camping, have movie nights.To just sit, and talk about everything from the last NMU hockey game, to your new crush, to your deepest fears and regrets.
        So this is for all of you. Take chances, and make choices. Know that no matter what happens, the rest of the ladies living here will be there. That no matter what you want, or who you want, or where you want to be, its all yours. Take that chance. Because you can't have success without failure, and you can't have failure unless you try. In the end, failure makes you stronger. Strong enough to support yourself and hopefully next year, the other girls. Because that is what Deja Vu's all about. Taking chances, and knowing no matter what, someones always going to be here to help you brush it off and start again. There's a reason we're one of the strongest houses on campus. I came back, and all I can do is ask that you guys give me the chance to be there for you.

Sometimes, you just have to jump.

Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right. -Henry Ford

I'm not sure I like this quote. I understand what the honorable Henry Ford was getting at, but I don't think I like his stance.

I get that:

If you believe you can do it, you can. And you will. It's like what we talked about in my leadership class the other day. Our professor asked us a question about if we thought that women have a harder time getting and doing well in leadership positions. We had to either agree or disagree and be able to support our belief. Since my class just so happens to be primarily women, it was additionally interesting. What kind of floored me is the number of young women who said that it is hard.

I get that we, as a sex, have a pre-determined notion against us that we should sit at home, make sandwiches and let the men do the hard work. I also wouldn't necessarily consider myself a feminist,but I do think that we have a lot more to give than people, or even ourselves give us credit for.

Maybe it's the fact that in this day and age, where people have all the options to do whatever they want, that people still think that women are still discrimnated against. Take a look at history everyone. I hate to break the bubble but everyone is discriminated against, at some point or another. It doesn't matter whether you're black, white, male, female or who you want to sleep with; discrimination happens.

But I think there is a way to break out of it; to change it. Rather then determine yourself as a person in comparison against what others have predetermined you as, make your own choice. So you have a different skin tone. Why should you sit back and hope maybe someday someone will think your can do what you want? You like boys...why wait for someone to tell you its OK to like whoever you want, boy or girl. That its what you want that matters.

I know, same old age ripened empowerment speech. But does anyone actually listen to the hundreds they hear in their life? I was raised by a strong woman, who said I could do whatever I want and then some. I was raised by a strong father who said that just because its hard doesn't mean I shouldn't do it. I was raised, as I am sure many are, in one life long empowerment speech.

The question is where do you take the speech and when do actually do something with it? I read my door deck the other day from my RA, which was as follows:

 Bro Tip #935 The good news is that one person has what it takes to change the world. The bad news is you have yet to realize that person is you.

I had a slight epiphany not gonna lie. Because there is that point, where you have to take what you've heard countless times before and actually do something with it. To take that self righteous song that you can make a difference and actually make it into something good.

Look at the others who came before and decide that you can follow them. Every fearless leader had something to overcome, a discrimination either from themselves or imposed from those around them. But rather then sit back and wait for someone else to pave the way they took charge.  So where do you draw the line? The line that makes you want to cross it and succeed? I can't tell you that. But I can tell you that its there. And you should test it.

Because honestly, lets face it.

Lines are meant to be broken. 

To wrap it up...

As much as I 'Look Up' to Mr. Henry Ford, I think he's wrong. Because unless you believe you can do it, you are wrong.

Acceptance vs. Tolerance

The other day,  in my political science class, my professor was talking about the academic bill of rights, and whether or not it is a statemnet of liberal or conservatism principles. The class debated, and what it came down to is that yes, they thought it was liberal, and yes it was unfair to the conservatives; that they (the conservatives) shouldn't have to accept our (liberal) ideas if we won't listen to theirs. One girl made the point that they they shouldn't be forced to tolerate us since we didn't let them teach their opinions, to which our professor replied 'But should the liberals accept my brother in laws positions?"*Note:  The professor dislikes her brother in law, due to his white separatism ideals.

Which has gotten me to debate internally the differences between acceptance and tolerance. Needless to say, it had occupied my thoughts for much of the class after these two statements, and I wanted to let my thoughts settle before I ran off a huge blog post about my undeveloped notions.

Now that it's been a couple of hours...well a lot of hours, I'm still stuck on the difference between acceptance and tolerance. According to Merrium-Websters online dictionary, the definitions are as follow:

Acceptance: an agreeing either expressly or by conduct to the act or offer of another so that a contract is concluded and the parties become legally bound.

Tolerance: a capacity to endure hardship or pain; sympathy or indulgence for beleifs or practices different from or conflicting with one's own.

I guess not the total definitions I had formulated in my own mind, but isn't that part of words? To take your experiences and be able to define them in your own interpretations of words...to some extent that is.

Anyways. Acceptance vs Tolerance: Emilys own version.

To 'accept' the ideas of others is much different than to tolerate, and for some reason neither party can understand that. To accept is to be able to say that yes, I think your idea is valid and I want to hear more.You  ACCEPT their reasoning and give it your mark of credibility.  To tolerate is to listen without feeling the need to agree and/or disagree, because in the end, everyone has their own right to their own ideas. No ones asking the other party to ACCEPT their idea as the truth, just for some TOLERANCE,  But for some reason this gets lost in translation.  Liberals are just as stubborn minded at times as conservatives are about their own ideas. Likewise, conservatives can also be shown to have more broad reaching ideas.

All I can see is both parties asking for TOLERANCE, but neither giving it. That is, the common courtesy to listen. No need to comment. But listen. Think. Let others opinions be heard as well..to some extent. I most definitely do not advocate for the shoving information down your throat method, but come on. It's the golden rule.  Don't expect tolerance without giving some. And you sure as hell shouldn't expect acceptance if you can't accept others for who they are as well. It's like the golden rule of life in general, but not so nice. Don't dish out what you can't take, and treat others the way you want to be treated.

Tolerance and Acceptance. Acceptance and Tolerance. Most people can differentiate, so why do politicians seem to think that they are exempt?

You make me so nervous

I hate this weekend.

I hate these three days, and I hate them more than I think anyone knows. I hate them for reasons I want to talk about, and reasons I don't. Just everything about it kind of kills me inside a little. Well, to be honest, a lot.

Now, I don't hate it because of recent developments in my life. They don't help with the three day inner turmoil, but I disliked this weekend long before. To me, it's an ending, stuck right smack dab in the middle of a beginning. It brings back times I had before, and it brings back times I can never have again. It also brings up the promise of new times, but with the hesitancy that comes alone with all new adventures.

If you've grasped anything from my posts, or from me as a person in general, I do poorly with change. Sameness is safety to me. I know that's terrible, and I've definitely gotten better. Believe me. I've grown above and beyond, as far as to embrace change and accept going with the flow. I used to cry everytime a good book ended, or it was time for a break in school.

However. This weekend brings me to things that I have a hard time dealing with. For as long as I can remember, my years don't start in January and end in December, but start and end in those fragile weeks between August and September. That time of year where school supplies begin to sprout everywhere, and days seem to slow to almost a stop. The inevitable end of late nights at the beach, splattered with ice cream cones and sunburns, as well as the inevitable start of 6:30 mornings, bus stops and band class.

It's an end and a fresh start all rolled into a couple of weeks. I mean, I had already cried when school ended the June before, but the tears didn't come with the start. What came with the start was the pit of apprehension, swirling through my body, of the unknown. New classes, new challenges, new accomplishments to achieve.

Now that I'm in college, those feelings come before right before school starts and wreck their havoc. But nonetheless, they come back now, even with the start of school behind me. I try to squash them, and prove to them that I don't need them, but still they come back. It must have been like this when the Pilgrims set out across the ocean. That jump, that reckless abandon that allowed them to fall asleep each night, knowing that they wouldn't sail over the edge while lost in their dreams.  I mean, it's the same feeling I'd like to think. Totally different situation, though I can't help but compare the feeling.

This weekend haunts me. And as much as I want to, I can't seem to shake it.

When you dream of me tonight, am I close to where you are?

Song of the Day: Let Love Bleed Red, by Sleeping with Sirens.

Before your read this, I ask you listen to it. Just to maybe understand where I'm coming from, and to listen to the words that are flowing through my ears as I attempt to wrangle in my own thoughts. I guess maybe just listen to that whole CD in general, but that is the song. Song of the day, the week, whatever you want to call it. It's the song that seems to put it all in perspective.

I cried today. I'll admit it. And I feel like the biggest ass in the world because of it. Cause I'm stronger then this. I know it, and I don't know why in the hell I haven't informed him. It's not the crying that gets me, I'm OK with that. I'm a firm believe that its better out than in with your emotions, and I am perfectly OK with a good cry. I cry all the time.

But what kills me, is what it was over. I'm a strong, independent woman and I don't need anyone to tell me that. I know it, and most days I believe it. But why can't I seem to remember that when it comes to this? Why does it make me weak in the knees, and take me out of the game? Why can't my gut just accept its done, and that it's over. That I was wrong again. That I wasn't enough. That it's all over. And that's that.

OK, so maybe that was over emotional. I'm good enough. I'm more than good enough. I guess I just needed to add the drama to make myself feel better for being so upset. That's the other thing. I don't let myself be upset. And you know what, I have the right too. I try and be the forgiving one, but honestly, I liked the unforgivalbe Emily from high school much better. I have every right to be upset, and I'm going to be. I'm going to listen to Hailey.

I'm going to be mad. And that's OK. I'm going to cry, and you know what, that's OK too. And I'm going to make myself heard. Because I deserve to be heard.

This is the correlation between salvation and love.

It always intrigues me when people say that they found themselves in college; that there, they realized their 'true potential' and found their passion in life. They call it the best years of their life, the golden era where your only concerns are where the party's at this weekend and not bombing your classes. Experimentation, realization, desperation. You name it, these people claim college has it. I'd like to think it does too. I'd like to imagine that college is the closet door to the Narnia of my life. That beyond those heavy wooden doors lies a magical kingdom where life makes sense and happiness comes as much as the free air.

But I can't seem to find the passageway. I can't seem to find my way through the cloak of moth balls and heavy fur coats to emerge in the sunshine of paradise. I stepped into college and instead of finding my way out, I've gotten locked inside. I'm suffocating in my own carbon dioxide. Or is it monoxide? Either way, I'm dying. Slowly but surely. And for some reason, instead of fighting for my life I feel like giving up... And it's scaring the shit out of me.

I don't know what I want, who I want, where I want to be. My wants have gone on without me, leaving me to fight of the what's by myself.

What if I fail out of school?
What if I don't find my passion?
What if I do die alone?

What if, what if. That little phrase is the villain in this soap, with no hero in sight. My Superman hasn't shown up, and I still haven't figured out exactly why I continue to wait on the bag of shit. He is a boy after all.

I'm stuck, locked in my own theoretical closet. Not the kind that keeps the gay boys in, but the closet of indecision. The ever lurking question floats above my head in the cobwebs, breathing its repetition in my ear as it blows by. "What to do?" it says, tickling the back of my ear as it swirls around, freed by it's own laziness to not care where it ends up. It's job is to follow me forever, and haunt my thoughts like my mother. (But I love my mother, not this thing)

Is it me? Am I one of those few that are destined to fail, to be one of the statistics? I look around this house of girls and wonder, is it me? Am I the one destined to fall, to open the doors for the others? Am I the one to actually move to Canada, recording my thoughts privately in deep essays, only to be discovered upon my death at 38 of a fatal heart attack? Am I the one destined to give up what others dream about, to make a path that has never been taken before? To be alone, but achieve more then anyone could have ever dreamed for me? Or am I the one to become the 'dream', married with five kids, a picket fence, two dogs and nothing to call my own as an accomplishment?

I'm being taken down alive, unwilling but nowhere else to go. I want to be in Narnia, but how am I supposed to do it when everything's a mess? How do I decide what the choice is, the chance to make? I'd follow my gut but it's let me down lately.

I want to find myself, but it sure has found a damn good hiding spot.

I am what I am, and I do what I say. I believe what I believe, and I love because its right. Sometimes, life doesn't work out the way you want but all you can do is listen to your gut and do what feels right...because in the end, the only person you're going to be with forever is yourself and if you don't understand them, no one will.

Never give up on something you can't go a day without thinking about.

Ever just have those days, where no matter how hard you try, all you want to to is curl up in your room and cry? Eat a whole bag of chips, read crappy books and pretend that you life is where you want it to be? That it doesn't matter he won't call or text  you back, or that your now living in a cell block with a girl you don't know who your afraid hates you. That even though you haven't seen your best friends in weeks, they might still love you. That in the end everything happens for a reason.

I believe in the idea that things happen for a reason. That a snowstorm isn't just due to a pack of in-climate weather, and that the reason why your hair looks so terrible is because it just has another motive. But sometimes, I can't help but wish that these things came with a disclaimer. Be careful, heartbreaks just around the corner. I mean, they wouldn't even have to be legitimate disclaimers. Gosh, you could even give them to me in fortune cookie form. Anything would be appreciated at this point.

All I know is, I love that my life has some sort of path that its going on, but it sure doesn't help my sad mentality to have everything go up in smoke at once.

Never more to be alone

I've decided...I'm taking it back. I'm taking back my right to make my own choices, and my right to decide how my life is going to go. I'm taking  back what I used to have, the self confidence and the idea that I'm something worth while. I used to walk around like I owned the place, and you know what? I'm going to start again. Because god damn it, the dudes at Super One seemed to think I did, so why can't I think so too?

I'm done letting other people decide. It's my life too. Why do I need to wait around and let everyone figure out my life? Sometimes you just have to jump, headfirst. I haven't done that in awhile and I'm suffering for it. I've passed plenty of doors because I've been waiting for the one to unlock itself. But I can't do that forever. I can't wiggle it and pound on it to be let in because I can't break down steel. I can only tap gently and hope that maybe whoever or whatever behind it wants to let me in. I'm not going to sit back and lose the chance to make something out of my life.

I'm taking back this hallway, and these doors. I'm going to open the ones I want to and I'm going to pass by the ones I don't. I'm tired of waiting for people to unlock them for me. I have the keys to all the ones I want to because I work hard and make the choices that need to be made.

And as crappy as this one is, I'm making it. I'm taking back my keys and putting on my sweet kicks; kicking ass and taking names once again. I wrote a post awhile back, with my paper for EN 211 in it.

            "I still hated who I had become. I hated that the self confident, defiant girl I had been in high school had somehow disappeared, leaving behind someone unsure of the next step. I was afraid to make a wrong move and plunge down into the canyon of failure that I had been warned about multiple times, afraid of not being able to handle the real world."


I'm taking her back. I'm resurrecting what once was and putting her with what now is.

Because it's my life. And I'm making my decisions again, now and forever.


Sorry Dorothy, its a rant again. But I guess I needed it.

You close your eyes...

Dreams Thats where I have to go

I've been thinking....again. Such a surprise, I know. I'm also pretty sure that you want to hear about what I've been thinking. A large assumption, I know but since you're reading my blog you have to have some sort of interest in the deeper, mysterious ways in which my brain travels.

To get to the point, I've been thinking more about this whole relationship thing. Don't worry, it's getting on my nerves as much as it must be getting on yours. As much as I don't want to settle, I feel like at this rate I'm going to be alone forever. Which, as much as I kid and joke about moving to Canada so that I can be alone forever, really kind of scares me.

Not so much the literally 'being alone'. I seclude myself often enough because I just need a break from the interaction. I guess it's more the idea that no body wants to put up with me for more then twenty minutes to stay with me for...well, for a long period of time.

It's more the being alone not by choice,  because I don't have anyone who wants to be there. It's one of my fears; my big deep dark secret fears that only comes out every once in awhile. The fear that everyone will leave me and I'll be alone.

Now, I know that this isn't going to necessarily happen. I have a family who loves me, and I have some friends who I'd go to the ends of the earth for, and would do the same for me. But it's just one of those nagging thoughts ya know? Like late at night when you have this terrible fear you're going to die in your sleep and you stay up awake for the rest of the night so a cat can't smother you while you sleep; all the while planning your funeral. Maybe it's just me. but I've definitely had those nights before. And they are no good. No good at all.

I guess the idea behind this rambling is that I don't want to actually be the kid living in Canada all by myself.

That I'm ready to just jump in, and find someone that wants to spend part of their life with me. Even if its just for the next six months, or year or whatever. I'm going to stop being afraid to take the chance. Cause I guess you've got to be left behind by someone who doesn't matter so you can be found by someone who does.

Ohhh Baby.

Sometimes I can't decide if this blog is the greatest idea I (well, Kyle really) ever had, or if maybe it's just a curse in disguise. I love being able to have a place to write my thoughts, and ideas and ambitions where I can get feedback as well as a place to put up some of my pictures. I write because I enjoy it, but I'd rather have a more constructive place such as this blog to store it, rather then in some lame notebook in my dresser.

Other times, I think it's just a place for my ego to get inflated and for me to broadcast stupid opinions that no one really cares about anyways. It's also a pretty big space to open up my deeper thoughts too; gives others a lot of opportunities to find out how I tick and find ways to shut me down.

Maybe I'm just being full of myself. Well, I kind of am, to assume that people read this out of their own free will, not some obligation as my friend. I could be full of myself in the fact that I always write these in the the first person 'listen to my fantastic use of verbs' way.

Curse..or blessing. Angel or devil. I can't decide.

It seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life lately, this unnecessary unknowing of what things are. How hard is it to have an idea and stick to it? To know in what you believe or at least be willing to try the other sides ideas on for size if its not your usual wear. It's the close mindedness of it all, I guess, that really gets to me. Its the age old Democrats vs Republicans, Superhero vs Villains. One side is always right, the other wrong. Can't there be some in between ground, where what you think is right and the other person thinks is right come together and make a baby of actual right-ness?

As my mom likes to remind when I'm in a spat, there are three sides to every story. You story, their story and the truth.

I guess I just need to figure out what side this blog falls on. And life itself for that matter.