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.

Where's Friday Night?

Picture this: You see that cute guy you've been working up the courage to talk to walking up to you at the mall; or your at a party and starting to feel uncomfortable about how many underagers seem to be loudly chugging their illegal beverages. All of a sudden a tingle races up to your brain and your stomach seems tense up and you know it's suddenly game time. The stakes have suddenly gone up and it's all you can do not to throw up pizza on your shoes.

You know that thing, that feeling, that twisting of your gut? That feeling that fates wrapped its hand around your small intestine and is trying to tie a sailors knot with your colon? I myself have named it my gut.

I know to some people this concept is foreign. I've been acquainted with this little guy since as far back as I can remember. My parents always gave me the little chat before I'd go out with my friends, to listen to that feeling; that little voice that comes along with it, breathing down the ridges of your spine. As much as you attempt to shake off that little twitch, it will keep coming until you do what it says. As much as my college aged self would like to think I'm mature, and know what I want all the time, I don't. And that's where my little angel of common sense comes in.

As obnoxious as it is, that little bodily trigger has saved me more times then I'd like to count. Granted, it hasn't always lead me down the greatest path either but everyone makes mistakes. Honestly, it was probably my fault for not listening to it soon enough in those instances.

Sometimes, as much as you don't want to you, you've just got to jump and trust your instincts. Cause honestly, no one knows you better than yourself.

Please excuse me if I'm coming on too strong

I bet it sucks to be you right now

Right there. That title says it all. All I can say is that the best thing about an attempt at getting a boy that fails is the part where you can walk away and just let them feel the loss. I feel like sometimes that boys forget that the chase can only go so far, and that sometimes they just need to step it up. 

I'm not attempting to rant, as Dorothy so kindly tells me my posts sometimes turn into. It's just for some reason, this song has had quite the message for me this evening. I like these evenings, where the simplest thing can just set off a chain of interesting thoughts, and feelings. Who could have ever thought that this song, out of everything I've listened to tonight would be the one to get me thinking. 

And thinking I have been. Gosh, I need to get a life. Or friends. Or just stop thinking so much. 

Point is, I've decided that I'm the best thing these boys have never had. And I'm done whining and complaining about completely unappealing and terrible I am. I'm not going to be one of those airheads. 

The balls in their court. Now, some I've realized that of them are really the best things I've never had; some, could have worked. But I'm thinking that I shouldn't have to convince someone they are interested in me. It's their choice. I'm just here, living the dream...ish. 

I'm just gonna follow my gut. And that's all I can do. Some boys will work, and some will not. Either or, I'm just gonna listen to Beyonce for a bit more advice. She seems to have it all figured out. 

They never said it would be easy, they just said it would be worth it

I was talking to my brother the other day about getting to go up to the Huron Mountain Club and nanny, which was my summer job last year. Alas, I was supposed to be unable to to it this summer, but something came up last minute so I could go. While I talked to him, he said something that's kind of been hanging around my subconscious for awhile now. I asked him why he wasn't excited for me, since it was all I had been talking about all summer, and he said 'I knew you'd find a way up, no matter what. You're Emily.'

It's got me thinking, about the implications behind what he said. I can't seem to grasp whether its a compliment, or an insult in my ruthless attempts to get what I want. 

It's also got me thinking about if it's really that bad of a thing. To dig in my heels and fight for what I want. Isn't that supposed to be the drive in life? To find something you want so much you'll work your butt off for it? I mean, obviously going to HMC and nannying isn't the greatest or best dream I've ever had in my small life; its more of the bigger picture. 

What's wrong with me going after what I want, and not stopping until I get it? What's wrong with me not being satisfied with second best, second rate, the silver medal in life? I guess I don't want to be labeled as heartless, or unforgiving, but I have standards. I won't deny it, pretty steep standards, not only for myself but those I associate with. Why should I settle with second rate friends who are just hanging around until something better comes along? The same with relationships. Why should I settle with the closest thing available just because I can't get what I want. 

I know what I want (roughly). I want to succeed, and make my mark on the world. I want to fulfill the highest expectations I can for myself, and to find happiness while doing it. I don't want to look back on my life in thirty years and be afraid I missed out on something just because I didn't want to go after it. I want to know that when I die, I left something behind.  

I think it's an approach that some people tend to forget about. They take the easy way out, and settle for the lovely second place. They forget that through the struggle, you get what you really want and that's what really matters. To be able to rest at night, content in the fact that you did what you thought was right. You worked for the relationship that was splitting at the seams, and gave the best you could to get to peak. 

I don't want to be that person. I want to know that when I go to bed at night, I go to bed knowing I did what I could, and that I'm ok with that. More then OK with that. I'm trying not to preach to the choir as they say, but sometimes I feel like I'm talking into thin air; that no one listens to what I say. That these ideas I cultivate and process are nothing more them then dandelion fluffs. 

I don't want my life to be a dandelion fluff. I want it to be something more. And if that means I need to claw my way through, I'll do it. Because My Lame Existence is all my own.