After All

Recently I returned from California for a quick Spring Break celebration in Disneyland (Yes, I just went in September, so sue me.) with parts of my family. Rich, Deb, sister Katie, Baby Grace and I packed up Rich's totally butch truck and made the long drive. Disneyland was eye opening in many ways like it has never been before. In my normal life I like to flatter myself into thinking I am an average looking female, but in Disneyland I am like WAY above average on the pretty scale. This isn't because I actually look more attractive with Splash Mountain soaked clothing and stringy hair, it's because there are a lot of unattractive people in this small world. Once you put me in a theme park with average Americans I am the Goddess of Beauty.
It.

Was.

Glorious.

I say these bold comments with all confidence in the world and I thought these same comments the entire vacation. I thought all these things while wearing this:

Yes, those are Minnie Mouse ankle socks, actually I'd actually prefer if we referred to them as "bobby socks" then I sound retro not lame.

Near and far.

I am in a serious abusive relationship, luckily it isn't currently with a person. It's with text messaging. I love certain things about the text messaging. I hate so many more things about it. One of the best days of my life was the day I discovered google text ( I can get weather info at anytime!). That day only to be topped by the day I was introduced to Cha-Cha. Text messaging is so convenient. It makes staying in touch easier. Sometimes I think I am even way funnier on text message, but then there are other times when I don't translate at all over text. Texting goes like this for me. 1)Think of a response to the question/statement sent. 2)Try and be funny. 3) Write text. 4) Read text out loud. 5) Send text. I would guess that maybe once a week a sixth step of also getting approval of text message from a friend before sending is also added. Unfortunately there are too many times I send my text without properly thinking. Sometimes the message doesn't translate to funny, I'm pretty sure it just sounds abrasive. Oh and I always get much too bold over text. This is a true story; I had a decent sized crush on a boy who would occasionally take me to dinner. Anyway, over time I found out he had a on again/off again girlfriend, thus making it impossible for him to fall in love with me. One night, fairly late I decided to send him this text message, "I know you love your girlfriend, or whatever, but I know you would have more fun with me." WHA-WHAT? Why would I do that? I'll tell why, because I could. I could easily send him a message making such a bold statement because it was over text. I can do anything over text, I'm invincible. Well, invincible for a very brief amount of time, then I go down in flames. It is usually a 6 to 7 minute time span before I realize what I just did. I always regret it. It takes several hours and many friends to talk me out of the texting shame. Text messaging has ruined my life, several times over, but that doesn't stop me from loving it.

Sasha Fierce.

Yesterday I a made a lot of bad decisions. The biggest bad decision I made was cutting my own bangs. When I said biggest bad decision I meant, I made a seriously terrible mistake. A mistake I will be paying for at least a period of two weeks. I hate myself.
Bangs-1 Emily-0

Oh Chad Kroeger.

This week I was catching up with sister. Sister and I stick to three solid catching up topics; her babies, my school, pop culture. Not only did sister tell me baby Grace loves Beyonce she then made the following statement, "Oh I love that new Nickelback ballad. Everytime I hear it I think of you." The song she is referring to is Nickelbacks newest "hit" "Gotta Be Somebody". I can't decide which is worse, that sister admitted to liking any Nickleback song or that anyone associates my life to a song Chad Kroeger wrote.

Where have I been?

I've been lost, but now I am found. First I got lost in the Christmas spirit. I spent all day, everyday with my family and I loved it. I liked being lost there. I'd be lost in family time all the time if I had my way. I was then on my way to coming back to the land of the living, but of course Warrick from CSI had to die, so I needed some Emily time to regroup. And then the mother of all consuming events happened. This was bigger than TV death, this was even bigger than family time. We're talking school time. Yes, I'm still getting my bachelors, but this is my final semester and my final class. FINAL as in last class. Well it will be my last class if I manage to pass it. Final class is the hardest class of my life. Harder than Spanish. Harder than my History of Rock and Roll class. And way harder than my Modern Day Poets: Bob Dylan class. It's my senior thesis and by the time this paper is due I will either be very happy or in the same place sweet Warrick is now. My good friend, Andrew Fish, took this same class last year and offered me one piece of advice "Do not start a new paper. Use one you've already written and make it better." Being the fool I am, I did not heed this advice. I've started a new paper and it is rough. First draft is due Feb. 9th. Team, I've got to pass this paper. All my sleepless nights are consumed with thoughts on making this paper passable. All my work hours are filled with thoughts of what an idiot I am for starting this paper all over. Basically all I think about all the time is this senior paper. So yes VH1 your new show "Tool Academy" looks hilarious, but it'll be reruns for the two of us. Sorry Whitney, but I will not be visiting "The City" within the next month. But attention any books/articles/thoughts on the Northern Cheyenne 1878 Long Walk, we've got some serious hours to clock in together.

2008 Gonna Be Great??

When I'm not watching TV, I'm thinking. Deep thoughts. What I've been thinking recently was around this time last year everyone was into the catch phrase "2008 is going to be great". Yes, EVERYONE was saying it. While my love for rhyming is only second to my love of alliteration, I really like rhyming that's accurate. And lets all be honest, 2008 not that great. No, I'm not talking 2008 not great just on a personal Emily level, it wasn't that great on a world level (hello, recession). Now I don't think it was because 2008 was so awful I think it's more that we all had our expectations way too high (great, we wanted great). Some people may call me "negative" or a "pessimist" for this kind of attitude, but I prefer to say I'm just keeping it real or that I am even realistically optimistic. I wanted 2008 to actually be great, but that was never going to happen. 12 months is a long time. There were some great months, there were some bad ones. 2008 was an average year, like should have been expected, and people there is nothing wrong with average. Average is steady, it's reliable. I like average. Plus when you expect average when you get anything better it's an added bonus. Let me give you an example.
I've always tried to be an average student. Unfortunately for my average goal in Jr. High I was a way below average student. Like way below, I may of may not have had a 2.0 average going into 8th grade. As a student of a younger age my parents would financially reward grades (awesome). For my siblings they had to make the honor roll, for me I had to get a C (double awesome). Once I got to the average stage my parents were happy, I was happy, everyone was happy. Average was awesome. Eventually my grades got better, sometimes even above average and that was just extra exciting, but never expected.
Expectations add pressure. I don't work well under pressure. Apparently 2008 doesn't work well under pressure either. I don't blame it. When you start with great you are bound to fail. Luckily for me nine coincidentally rhymes with fine. So, 2009 probably going to be fine and if that doesn't work out 2010 is coming around the bend (boo yeah). Go ahead and think I'm negative about 2008, but I'm just keeping it real, that's how I roll.

Working all the live long day.

After a hard work week of tricking kids into good oral hygiene I decided to take Saturday off. Completely off, like I was in my PJ's until 6 PM. Naturally I used this time wisely to catch up on some VH1 (for the record, I do not believe that Brett Micheals will EVER find love on a tour bus. If he couldn't find it in a mansion or make it work with "the Frenchie" he should be alone forever). What really intrigued me was this "The Pick Up Artist 2" (A reality show where 3 "mentors" try to turn good guys into smooth operators. Smooth operators who can pick up chicks. Each week one good guy is kicked off the show for his lack of "skills".) marathon. I couldn't decide which of the following three things offended me the most about this reality show.
1. The shows main man, "Mystery". Ok, not so much "Mystery" the man, but for sure "Mystery's" wardrobe. Like I am supposed to believe that a guy who wears top hats and floor length coats trimmed in fur knows anything about "picking up" chicks? Plus "Mystery" is Canadian.
2. "Mystery" actually does know how to pick up chicks! So many episodes "Mystery" and his side kick "Matador" give the contestants advice that really works. While the pick up artist experts are outlining the game plan for the fellas I start out skeptical. "Yeah right that would work" to only be thinking ashamedly two minutes later "I totally would fall for that" or "I have fallen for that".
3. "Mystery" has a whole pick up girls language. He has a lingo that you HAVE to know if you want to be a real pick up artist. I guess the new lingo is where the actual art of the pick up happens. Here are a couple of my favourite pick up definitions.
Gambit=Conversation Starter
Niquito=Chick Magnet
Thread=Line of Conversation
Here's an example on how to use all three "Ok, Niquito tell a gambit and after a minute check the thread. If the story isn't working with this babe we'll bounce".
While I will admit "Mystery" was able to turn some of these zeros into real hero's I just can't put my full heart into backing this particular reality show, but good try VH1.