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.