The Head and The Heart

Song of the Day: Sunshine by Julia Nunes

This post is in response to Michael's post. I don't have it outlined or anything, but it'll be about vulnerability and all that jazz.

I personally have a REALLY hard time letting myself be vulnerable. I can count the number of times I've cried since age 15 on one hand, and I think only one of those was in front of someone (despite my efforts to keep myself together). Before I got together with Mike, my biggest hurdle was letting myself be vulnerable enough to be in a relationship; I still have trouble expressing how I feel, not just because I'm generally inarticulate but because it's hard to just sort of spill my guts out loud. I usually use this blog for the gut-spilling, if I spill them at all.

I spent a good chunk of my life making myself "strong." To me, being strong meant not crying, not falling in love, not being vulnerable. Especially the falling in love bit, because I associated falling in love with getting hurt. I have these weird double standards with emotions; like I don't consider being in love or crying to be signs of weakness in others (quite the opposite, actually), but when I cry, for example, I feel awful and weak and foolish.

What's funny is I generally consider myself a Gryffindor. But when push comes to shove, it's REALLY hard for me to be brave and let myself be vulnerable. I had to have a lot of conversations with close friends (and Mike) that went like this:

Friend: Do you like him?

Me: Yes.

Friend: Does he like you?

Me: Yes.

Friend: Would this be a good idea?

Me: It would be a wonderful idea.

Friend: So are you going to go for it?

Me: I DON'T KNOOOOOWWWWWWW.

Because letting that happen went against everything I'd worked for over the years. Basically I had to do a cost-benefit analysis and decide whether it was worth losing my idea of strength to gain a whole new one. And it was.

I still don't cry. Mostly it's just that I don't cry very easily, but conversely I think I've trained that into myself. Music is the most likely thing to get me. If I feel like crying in a movie, it's probably because of the movie. The worst is "End of an Era" by Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls. It pretty much goes past making me cry and just sort of makes me choke and gag, so I just can't listen to it. It's sort of ridiculous. The score from Lord of the Rings threatens to choke me up sometimes too. But if tears appear, they never fall.

Welp. I'm going to have lunch. Michael, I hope you enjoy(ed) Looking For Alaska. In your John Green adventures, don't forget Let It Snow! And let yourself be vulnerable once in a while; it's almost always worth it.

And my head told my heart, "Let love grow," / But my heart told my head, "This time no." -Winter Winds, Mumford & Sons

THE HOBBIT TRAILER THOUGH

I CAN NOT PROPERLY EXPRESS MY EXCITEMENT FOR THIS FILM.

http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/wb/thehobbit/

The trailer just smacked me in the heart with all of the insane, wiggly emotions that go along with "The Lord of the Rings," which I have not watched in so long that I had all but forgotten them. Like the bit where I get so happy and excited that I sort of choke. I can't even. This is going to be such a good 21st birthday gift.

I'm going to watch Fellowship of the Ring tomorrow night. That's a thing I need to do. God. Peter Jackson is just...he knows. He knows.

I just remembered that I have a tattoo that is a damn obscure reference to The Hobbit. I don't think I've ever felt cooler.

MUST EXPRESS EXCITEMENT ON EVERY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM.

*runs off barefoot and singing a hobbit ballad*

Forgot to Post This Last Night

Song of the Day: Mr. Tinman by Lamppost Revival

"Another year, gone."

Welp. I'm 20 now. So that's weird. I definitely don't FEEL old enough to not have "teen" be part of my age. On the plus side, Mike and I are within the same decade now, so it sounds less weird xD

As birthdays go, today was kind of blah. Saw an old family friend who (naturally) crooned over remembering when I was born and not believing I was 20 already. Then I got to go to the hospital--this is the fun part. It was actually the hospital I was born in (inwhichIwasborn). I haven't set foot in it since my birth, but somehow I managed to go back exactly 2 decades later. I was just there for an ultrasound to find out what that weird pain in my side is; the technician didn't scream or anything, so I'm assuming it's nothing horrific. Then again, they usually don't tell you anything at the time, they send it to the doctor and they go over the results with you. So we'll see.

Facebook is funny. People I haven't talked to since high school, some even since middle school, wished me a happy birthday today. Sometimes I think that seems phony because obviously they only know it's my birthday because Facebook told them, but on the flipside they took that information and bothered to drop me a line. So I decided to appreciate it.

Michael made his Tumblr into a sort of birthday card for me. So that was sweet. Thanks dude!

I think today was mostly lame because nobody's home yet. Brett and Abbie are coming home tomorrow night. I am very excited to have them around. Also going to see Mike tomorrow, which will be good.

I really wish I were done with doctors for a while. But I know I'll have to deal with them at least two more times before break is over. Wheeeee.

I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining about my birthday. I'm really not. I got lots of birthday wishes from peeps I love and Skyped with some awesome people. And my mom bought me a milkshake. So that was good. Um. Yes. The end.

But through failure I'll proceed / And she'll see how far I've come. -Speak, Nickel Creek

Thomas Andrew Kirkham

Song of the Day: String Quartet No.12 in F Major, Op.96 "American" by Antonin Dvorak

So Mike and I took a walk last Saturday (the 12th) at Whatcom Falls Park. Connected to this park is a ridiculously huge and very old cemetery. The cemetery dates back pretty much to when the city started to exist. We apparently share an affinity for walking around looking at people's gravestones; not out of disrespect. We admire longevity, honor veterans and stand a while in silence by the graves of children. In fact, I feel great respect for the dead and find it fascinating trying to reconstruct their lives from the tiny bits of information I'm given. In this particular cemetery, if you go to the older parts, you tend to come across quite a few that say "PIONEER" in big letters and others that signify that the deceased was in the Civil War. The Civil War.

In our wanderings, we came across the headstone of one Mr. T.A. Kirkham. Mr. Kirkham was a Union sharpshooter from Wisconsin. The dates on the stone read 1836-1933. Let's take a second on that one.

Think for a minute about the quality of medical care when our Mr. Kirkham was around. Not so great. In 1830, about one third of Americans could expect to live to age 60. Penicillin wasn't used (at least among the masses) until after Kirkham died. In addition, he fought in 27 battles including Gettysburg and only suffered a wound to the ear. Somehow, this man lived to be 97 years old. How even.

Upon seeing Kirkham's headstone, we both did a double take. Enlisted to fight in the Civil War at age 25 and lived to be 97?? Damn. Since then I've sort of become obsessed with him; I looked up the cemetery records to find out his full first name, and spent a while going through what Google offered me about Kirkham and his family. His great-granddaughter is 76, or was when one particular web page about him was posted.

You know how sometimes you'll come across a question asking who you'd like to have lunch with, regardless of whether they're alive or not? Thomas Andrew Kirkham is at the top of my list. He isn't famous or anything, but he has attached himself like a barnacle to my brain and I can't shake it. I wish I could talk to him. I obviously know nothing about his personality, and you don't shoot your own countrymen without coming away changed, but you also come away with stories. Incredible stories of war and coming to the West in 1910, when Washington was still a little toddler of a state.

There are so many stories in cemeteries. Some funny, some wonderful, some terrible, all fascinating. Mike and I talked a little about it and how people may tend to consider an affinity for graveyards a bit morbid and creepy, but we decided it really isn't. Especially in the older sections. We're visiting people who haven't been visited in who knows how long, appreciating stories that, outside of families, haven't been shared in years. Always quietly, always with respect, and always able to smile at people like T.A. Kirkham and comment that they were clearly doing something right.

That's all for now. I may write another post about the cemetery, but it's a bit somber for this one and would make it ridiculously long. And now to wrench myself from the internet and go actually do things, like a group meeting for a project and an orchestra concert for which we are frankly not quite ready.

P.S. My sister got engaged, so that's really fucking awesome. I get a big brother =D

I would walk a thousand miles / just to talk to you for a while /.../ I would build a bridge to the other side / Just so I could spend a little time with you. -Bridge to the Other Side, Oliver Boyd & the Remembralls

None of the Focus

Song of the Day: I Want To Hold Your Hand by The Beatles

Herp all the derps. I have zero focus. Which sucks because I have an assignment I need to do since I can't do it tomorrow night because I have my first orchestra concert of college! Mucho excited. It's going to be awesome. Plus I'll be dressed as Ramona Flowers, so how could it be bad?

So basically I'm blogging because I can't focus on homework. After this I'm going to make cinnamon hot chocolate, try to do homework and end up daydreaming about December. At least I know myself well enough to acknowledge that -.- I shouldn't sound so grumpy, I'm actually pretty damn happy right now. Things are good. I like it when things are good.

Unfortunately, when things are good I run out of things to say because nothing is easier than complaining xD I could rant about what's so great, but that gets annoying. To me. I love it when other people talk about why they're happy, but it annoys me to watch myself do it =p #logic

I'm supposed to meet with an accompanist tomorrow. I'm kinda nervous because Emily is the only person who's ever accompanied me, and I usually don't use an accompanist at all. I have no idea how to interact with him. I am a socially awkward penguin.

I just saw a video of the cast and crew of Doctor Who dancing to 500 Miles. All of the awards.

Okay. Really gonna attempt to go work. I'm going straight up Larry the cucumber right now. OH WHEEEEEEERE IS MY FOCUS? OH WHEEEEEEEEEEEEERE IS MY FOCUS?

It's been dark for so long that it feels way later than it is. Also, I slept very little and that's contributing as well. I just started a sentence with "also" and ended it with "as well." Is that even allowed? Hell if I know.

Okay I'm not posting again until I actually have something to say. Good night.

I'm always pretty happy when I'm just kicking back with you. -5 Years Time, Noah and the Whale

The Insecurity Sessions

Song of the Day: For Emma by Bon Iver

The comments on my latest video are the most consistently lengthy comments I've ever had. But I love them. I hope I'm not coming on too strong in this comment conversation with Michael. The whole subject gets me really heated which makes me express my opinions enthusiastically, so even when I intend to be respectful it can look like I'm being aggressive. I appreciate the respectful opinion-sharing, Michael! I promise I'm not trying to stab you through the screen, I really do appreciate the conversation and your opinions! I just disagree.

Anywho. Know what's awesome? Hot chocolate with cinnamon in it. And I have a bigass mug of it so I'll probably either be in a coma or bouncing off the walls within the hour. I lead a really fascinating life.

College is awesome. I wish I talked to my friends more. The ones who don't live here.

You know what's a funny saying? When people tell you to grow some balls and mean "toughen up." Is there anything LESS tough?? I mean it's not men's fault in the slightest, it's just a biological thing. But somehow we equate men with being tough, and that's the distinguishing feature between a man and a woman I suppose? Just saying.

My mind is everywhere except my homework right now. There's this problem where I have tons of time between my classes so I'm like, "I can totally do this tomorrow." Which I can, no problem. But then I sit here wasting time, half-attempting to do it instead of closing my laptop and picking up a book or skyping a friend (Abbie). Things so much bigger than me keep happening and I'm trying to get used to it. Also, trying to be taken seriously. Being a five-foot-tall girl without any particular strength makes that tough. Especially when my instrument is as big as I am (I forget how dumb I look carrying it until someone who isn't used to me makes a comment). I basically can't afford to be dumb or sub-par because I'm in settings where people don't know me and have no reason to respect me until I give them one. That will be the worst thing about being last chair. I know someone has to be, but it breeds assumptions. Like, this is what I DO, I should at least be decent at it. And if my wrist keeps trying to make me stop practicing and I'm just like No, that's not an option. Shut up.

Wow. This has been an Insecurity Session with Emma. If I were a musician, I'd put out an album called The Insecurity Sessions. Maybe. I just think it sounds cool.

I'm gonna go think about stuff and get nothing done.

Face forward, move slow / Forge ahead. -The Captain, Guster

Just A Wee Post

Song of the Day: Measurements by James Blake

It is late (11:00 qualifies as late when you get up at 6:30 every day). I am sleepy. And I can not, for the life of me, focus.

I'm hoping this is a problem that will go away (or at least significantly decrease) over time as I become used to homework again. It's partially my Women's Studies textbook; it's saying very interesting and thought-provoking things, but the way it says them makes me want to strangle Muppets. It's like they wrote a sentence that made sense, and then used a thesaurus on every damn word to make it way more dull, tedious and complicated than it needed to be. I have no problem with big words. But I do have a problem with things being harder than they need to be, especially in the context of a textbook, where clear, concise communication of ideas is more important than fluffiness. Don't try to impress me with your annoying way of saying things, just EFFECTIVELY COMMUNICATE THE IDEA. I can not process information this way. By the time I figure out what a sentence is trying to say, I've forgotten the idea of the paragraph and have to go back and reread it. And since my brain has realized this is happening, it shuts down and won't focus on the text. Which is bad.

I really just wanted to rant about that. I could rant about other things, but that would take even more time and would go around in circles with no conclusion. And that, my friends, is annoying.

I'm really concerned that I won't progress quickly enough in music. Like, we already have a seating test coming up next week. Most of our music is totally unplayable for me as of right now, much less at the speed it needs to be. Two hours a day of practice is doable, but so far doesn't do anything but frustrate me. I hope it starts to pay off. I'm really sick of being sub-par and I want my work to show.

Okay. I have a gap between classes tomorrow that I was going to use for practicing, but am now going to use to finish my WS homework. Sleep is more important now.

For the record, I am happy. Just temporarily frustrated and trying to think about too many things. But, in general, things are actually pretty awesome. Minus the sick.

Trees in clouds, testing doubt / trying not to be too old. -Measurements, James Blake

Introductions

Song of the Day: Follow Me by Uncle Kracker (do you remember this song? Holy cow.)

This here is a post about honesty. Good, old-fashioned straight shooting. And how people don't.

Now this is one of those things that I never really thought about, but once I did it was like, "Well, duh." But I thought it was interesting that I thought about it at all so HERE GOES. I DON'T DO THIS FOR YOU.

When we meet people, we aren't honest. It's not that we outright lie (generally) but we certainly withhold some things. There's a screening process that goes into meeting new people and making friends. You don't go up to a stranger and say, "Hi, my name's Emma. I have crippling body image problems and raging jealousy issues that stem from deep-seated insecurity. And I like Harry Potter." You don't say shit like that because it weirds people out. You have to meet someone and decide (based on the version of them presented at the time) whether it's worth it to make them like you. Then once they do, you have to further decide if they're worth trusting. That's the big one. You don't tell someone you can't trust about your deepest flaws. It's just this weird filter that humans put other humans through because we aren't willing to be transparent with just anyone. And because of this whole process, one of the highest compliments you can give someone (in my opinion) is to say that you trust them.

In other news, I may have a SUPER rad Halloween costume idea. If I can manage to pull it off, it will be so fantastic. This was a nice short post. Happy early Christmas!

I talk myself in, I talk myself out / I get all worked up then I let myself down. -Haven't Met You Yet, Michael Buble

The Prince

Song of the Day: Chicago by Sufjan Stevens

I haven't bloggity-blogged in a while, so I thought I'd throw together a little synopsis of something my brain did this afternoon.

We are having a particularly stormy week here in the beautiful northwest. Around here, fall means wind, and recently the weather gods have delivered. So today when I left the Performing Arts Center (where I pretty much live nowadays), it was dark, raining and EXTREMELY windy. I had 4 textbooks in my backpack (two of them necessary for today's class, two of them purchased for a class tomorrow) and had forgotten my iPod. So my brain decided to crank things up a little bit.

I was walking along a path in the foothills of the mountains with the raging wind doing everything it could to stop me. The storm was brewed by the Ocean Man, who was angry at the Shore-Dwellers for taking his children so often and so greedily. I carried a wolf upon my back; not just any wolf, but the Prince and my spirit vessel. Every generation of valley wolves has a Prince and he chooses a human with whom to share his spirit, and together they protect the forest. But once this connection is made, the death of one brings the death of the other. The storm had loosed a branch which had fallen onto the Prince, and I could now feel the pain draining his energy. I knew that the only people who could heal him were the shamans who guarded the mountain.

As I walked, the trees reached out with their sharp fingers to claw at me and whip at my face; the wind stole my voice away and so the trees could not understand my mission. They wanted only to protect the Mountain People. I could hear the Prince whine as wet leaves sliced at his face.

At last we came to a small valley, passed through it against the wind and began to climb the hill to the shamans' lodge. But the Prince's weight and the wind brought me almost to a standstill, and I struggled to gain a solid footing on wet leaves. The Prince told me to put him down, but I knew that if he tried to walk we would both die. He insisted and struggled to break free, but the lodge was in sight and as his energy waned, so did mine. I took my pack from my shoulders and gathered it into my arms to restrain him, then summoned what I believed to be the very last of my energy to make it up the towering stairs to the lodge.

When I came to I was warm and dry. The Medicine Woman and the other shamans fed our bodies with bread and our souls with music. The Prince will recover, given time. We shall have to make peace with the trees soon, and then we will go to the sea to meet with the Ocean Man and the Shore-Dwellers; we must speak to them on behalf of the trees.

...so yeah, that's what my imagination does when I force it not to think about my real life (because there's only so much of THAT I can take, you know?) I suppose I should go back to job hunting like a responsible adult. Boo.

I stand where the flashing swords gleam / And I try to shake my head clear of the dream / But I'm out of my element / I can't breathe / I'm out of my element / I can't breathe. -How To Embrace A Swamp Creature, The Mountain Goats

Disjointed Thought Vomit

Song of the Day: The Cave by Mumford and Sons

Thought 1: I love being here because the people actually go out and do things, so relaxing feels somewhat justified. However, Emily gets so much done that she makes me feel like the least productive human being on Earth. If I could be qualified for one damn job, that would be really fantastic.

Thought 2: Kirkland Signature macaroni and cheese is not nearly as good as Kraft. A while ago I switched to Annie's, but since I'm buying my own food that isn't an option. We ended up double-stocked on mac & cheese because my dad didn't know Steph had already given us a case so he bought us some. Emily and I figure the Kirkland brand stuff will just make us really thankful when we get to the Kraft pack.

Thought 3: I should NOT be looking at fox tattoo designs. For multiple reasons, the foremost of which is that I am leagues away from having the money for another tattoo. Like, probably years. Unless I ask my parents to foot the bill for one as a Christmas present at some point. But they already went over budget for my cello and I'm planning on no presents this year to make up for that. Either way, looking at designs is torture. And somewhat pointless, because I would never get a tattoo identical to someone else's (with the exception of my treble clef, there was just no getting around that one). I should make friends with an art student and have them draw one for me. Hell, Emily could probably do it.

Thought 4: I realized that I am very much like Aunt Josephine from "Anne of Green Gables." I like people who make me like them--it saves me the trouble of making myself like them.

Thought 5: I'll be holding the fort tonight while Emily stays at Jake's, so that will be an adventure.

Thought 6: People are starting to move back in, meaning there will be more people to see. Zach is moving in this coming weekend, I think, and Erinn is coming to visit him so hopefully I can see both of them then (I know those names only mean something to Abbie).

Thought 7: This school is doing everything in its power to prevent me from making registration day less stressful. I tried to get an advising appointment for this week so it would be one less thing to do on the 19th, but they can't do that. I tried to get my ID card; I can't until I'm officially registered. Seating auditions for the symphony are on the same day as registration, so I have to work around that and I have no idea what to do with my cello while I'm doing registration ish.

Thought 8: This post is long and full of things you don't care about. But I had to put them somewhere. Otherwise they'd fill up my brain and other stuff would start falling out of my ears at inopportune times and then things would just get ugly.

Thought 9: Overall, things are going very well. I'm meeting new people and learning to be somewhat independent. We went on a beach adventure today (and saw a dead seal, which was awful), and last night we went on a walk around the residential areas just because we could. Between getting up at a decent hour every day (which is really hard when I go to bed late, but I know will ultimately be good for me) and eating better/less, I'm getting healthier. I know I was talking about mac and cheese, but I've actually been eating breakfast every day (something I almost never did at home, partially because I always got up late) and I switched to wheat bread, which I like more than I thought I did. Yeah. Good times. Okay, seriously leaving now.

Not much of this makes sense to me
The river leaves run cold and dry
But it keeps me from swinging tree to tree
And sometimes I’m too scared to even try
Hashing through the possibilities
They seem as endless as the sky
You seek the truth and the quiet breeze
But the air is too thin to reply
Well I know that’s where I’ll never be
Because I can see the summer’s done
I try to let the river flow in and out of me
And pray I float the way I think I want
And pray I float at all.

-Happy Frappy, Guster

Obligatory

Song of the Day: Better Together by Jack Johnson

Okay. I'm not going to talk about 9/11. It's been talked about by others, and honestly I don't have new opinions to offer on the matter.

We moved into our new place on Wednesday the 7th (I know I said no more posts about moving, but this is more about the aftermath of moving). I got to drive the U-Haul on moving day, and according to everyone that was really hilarious to see. We had trouble with setting up our internet for a few days (turned out our router was old and shitty) but we finally fixed that and are pretty much settled in now.

In a word, living on my own is weird. I don't think I've gotten up the first time my alarm went off...ever. But I have done that every day since we got here. At 8 o'clock, no less. But I've gotten shit done! Or at least tried to. I'm really glad we moved in two weeks(ish) before school started, it's going to be chaotic enough without trying to get all this together right before classes begin.

Emily's friend Mike (her boyfriend's roommate) came over on Friday night and brought us a bottle of nice bourbon. Now, I'm a straight-edge and I don't drink. And the bourbon is so damn strong that I didn't have any of it straight because I didn't want to react like a pansy when I tasted it. But yesterday I ended up putting some in my lemonade and HOT DAMN, was that delicious. Fruit juice and bourbon, go figure. I honestly don't understand drinking to get drunk. I figure if something tastes good, drink it. If you enjoy it and end up getting drunk, well, whoops. But I don't see the fun in drinking with the intention of getting shitfaced. Drunkenness = vulnerability (especially for a girl) and that's not really my game. We ended up having Story Time for hours (the sort of Story Time that requires every story to be prefaced with "This never leaves the room right? RIGHT??") and I found it hilarious that when they got to me, there was nothing to be told. Both Emily and Kayley tried to come up with something, but there was just nothing of the caliber of the others' stories. Clean livin'.

We met the guy who moved into the apartment above ours. His name is Josh. With Kayley's help, he quickly became a really creepy joke and now we're sort of obsessed with him. I'm pretty sure he lives alone. We brought him freshly made cookies the night he moved in and left a note (he wasn't home). Haven't heard back yet. But it's really fun referring to him as "The Man Upstairs." I really hope he can't hear all our creepy jokes and keep waiting for "Dear Girls Below Me" to crop up on the internet.

Being independent is REALLY expensive. Luckily my parents stocked us up on lots of food staples. I still really need a job though. And I'm expecting to survive the winter with snuggies and space heaters.

I finished season 2 of Doctor Who last night. The Doctor's face...god damn. I had to do the dishes and listen to Louis Armstrong to get over it enough to go to bed. I watched the Christmas special today (which I guess was TECHNICALLY the end of the season) and I absolutely love how David Tennant plays the Doctor's grief. There is such an intense darkness that overcomes him when Donna asks him about Rose. And I loved his line, "She is SO alive!" Tennant just IS the Doctor to me.

I've gotten a fair bit done today (cello practice, dishes, laundry, DW, Skype with Brett, a bit of job searching) but I feel slightly useless. I think that's partly because I don't really have the option of going outside at the moment. I still don't totally know where things are, at least not confidently enough to go alone. Plus I can't really get to downtown on foot. And the people I know haven't moved up here. I'm excited for when they do =] There is SO much to do, and I think I can do it. I'm excited for classes to start because I have felt myself getting dumber over the last year and I want to stretch my brain again. I'll probably have to take a couple of bullshit requirement classes, but I know there will be some music core classes so that will be cool. My biggest issue at the moment is money. So if I can get that at least sort of taken care of, everything will be good. I'm cool with being poor, just not SO poor that I can't afford rent.

Ha. I just read the carton of juice we bought the other day and the different flavors have little "peronsality" profiles. The one I got is "daring." Even my juice is a Gryffindor.

Well I think this is lengthy enough. Hopefully I can get a video made soon, I just need to steal Emily's flipcam for the specific one I have planned. In the meantime, I'm going to read a bit while listening to the playlist that Emily built based on Jake's request for "Chill-ass cool music."

And with every passing hour / I'm so glad I left my tower. -I've Got A Dream, Tangled

How Can I Hold All These Limes?

I've realized why packing is so hard. It's because the way I live is designed for permanency. The knick-knacks, the shoeboxes of letters and birthday cards, the drawers of half-finished stories, the way I stack and stash things; it's not meant to be moved. And it's not meant to be in a temporary place. And it's even harder because I don't know how temporary my new place will be. Will I stay there all 5 years? Will I move into a different place with more roommates once Emily moves out? I can't know that at this point, and that's making packing next to impossible. I don't know what to DO with it all. My mom said I can leave some stuff for a while, and store some of it too. At this rate, I'll be storing everything except my clothes and a few books. And no matter what, I have to clear my bookshelf so I can bring it. Books are fucking heavy, too.

That's all, really. Just wanted to put that fun little revelation somewhere. I elaborate on that topic a little in a video I filmed today while packing. Don't know when I'll edit that. I shouldn't have been so dramatic about this packing business so early in the game. If you curl up into a ball prematurely, then there's nothing to do later but curl up a little tighter.

Well. Back into the fray, I suppose. I think I just need to Gryffindor up about living without some of these things, at least for a while. Like until I'm 30. No more posts about packing/moving, I promise.

I Forgot What It's Like To Be Busy

Song of the Day: Lost in My Mind by The Head and The Heart

Hey look! The end of BEDA! And even though it is past midnight, it totally counts because most of my posts have been written after midnight!

I got together with Erinn and Abbie today (we were briefly in a string quartet christened Flamingo Ruckus). I arrived about an hour before Erinn, so Abbie and I watched "An Ideal Husband" (which I highly recommend; despicable antagonist, hysterical/subtle/cutting Victorian humor, and Rupert Everett). Once Erinn arrived we played guitar for a bit, went to Dick's for dinner, and then watched Disney movies ("Tangled" followed by "Lady & the Tramp") while we made friendship bracelets. Because apparently we are 13-year-old girls from the 90s. There are worse things to be, in my book.

I move out in exactly one week. And on two of the upcoming days I will get SO little packing done. Saturday I'm going to Bumbershoot and then Sunday I have a gig in Leavenworth, which will take about 8 hours out of my day and leave me pretty exhausted upon my return. Plus tomorrow I have some errands to run. AND I need to practice cello a TON over the next few days because I want to make a decision on my new cello by my next lesson on Monday. Ack. Time. It's funny because I'll go for long stretches where it feels like I'm doing nothing, and then suddenly I'll have an overwhelming amount of stuff to do. And I'll kick myself because some of the things were things I put off. Ah well. Procrastination is definitely my Achilles heel.

Well I don't have much else to say this evening. It's very possible that my next post will come from my new apartment. Actually, I'll probably try to squeeze one in after Bumbershoot. It's going to be a very busy week. Sweet fancy Moses.

Thanks for sticking with me until the very end.*

You're flirting with time, and maybe / time, baby, is catchin' up with you. -Flirting With Time, Tom Petty

*of August

My Eyes Are Important, Stop Abusing Them

Song of the Day: Sunrise by Norah Jones

Second to last day, peeps. ALMOST THERE.

I went to the eye doctor today. You know what I really don't enjoy? The machine that blasts air into your eyes. I refuse to believe that in this day and age, they can't find a more comfortable method of testing the pressure in a person's eyes. Then the doctor shined an uncomfortably bright light into my eyes, MULTIPLE TIMES. From MANY ANGLES. Aren't they always telling you NOT to do that??

Zach and Matt (of YouTube fame) are doing a thing in Seattle tomorrow. It turns out I have other plans, but if I didn't I'm still not sure whether I would go. I still sort of feel like an outsider when I hang out with Kayley at things like that. The awkward non-famous kid. I would love to meet them (not because they're famous, but because they seem like genuinely interesting people), but I feel like it might be strange because I know about them and they don't know about me. Of course the only way to change that would be to meet them. I also don't want to seem like I'm using my friendship with Kayley to push my way into that particular ring of friends. I DON'T LIKE TALKING TO NEW PEOPLE.

That's a lie. I do like it. I'm just bad at it. I'm no good at starting conversations. Then I get grouped in with the Awkwards or the Borings and life is bad.

The Sounders are 1 game away from their 3rd US Open Cup Championship! WHUDDUP.

Alllllrighty, I'm getting boring. Until the morrow, then.

I wanna know the absolute quiet of an orchard / And I wanna know how many stars are really in the sky.

"Anxious-Excited, Definitely."

Song of the Day: Adult Female by Hank Green

So here's something weird-but-not-really-all-that-weird-when-you-actually-think-about-it. Different instruments sound like different very abstract ideas. So strongly that you don't even think about it when you hear them, you just go straight to feeling it. And I wonder if everyone hears/feels the same things upon hearing them, or if it's a bit subjective. Personally, these are my feelings on the following:

Harmonicas sound like wandering and loneliness; not always a bad loneliness. They just sound like the lazy sort of wail that is generally most permissible when one is by oneself. I really love harmonicas.

Acoustic guitar sounds like the truth.

Banjos sound like home. Not in the specific sense--my home could certainly never be associated with banjos--but more in the sense that a banjo can make a place sound and feel like home.

Pianos sound either relaxed and slightly mischievous (if it's jazz) or, if it makes any sense, the embodiment of hope, whether it's hopefulness or hopelessness. The poignancy of all things hope-related.

Innit funny that I can't decide what cellos sound like?

I was hoping it would stay cloudy today, I'm in a cloudy mood. I put on my flannel and everything. Speaking of vaguely related topics, I'm going to stop blogging and go pack. I'm hoping I'll get through my clothes this afternoon; sort between the ones to keep and the ones to donate, then pack all the ones I won't need over the coming week. WEEK. Nuts.

I'm listening to Hank Green and The Blues Brothers to keep sentimentality to a minimum. I think I'll end up writing an emotionally charged song later that, when I go back and play it, will probably be awful. Welp. That's my plan for the afternoon/evening.

I'd be interested in other thoughts on the instrument thing, either agreements, criticisms or additions. Yipes, my brain is everywhere.

A wanna be a church mouse / I wanna be a lighthouse. -Leah Houghton

Cool Aunt Syndrome Strikes Again

Song of the Day: The General Specific by Band of Horses

So I drove a boat last night. In the dark. It was exciting.

Today was my grandma's birthday party at my uncle's house. While the general consensus is that my aunt Susie is insane (aunt Alice is awesome), their house is still the best place for gatherings. Actually I should amend that: Walter's place is best in the summer, Alice's is best for winter (Thanksgiving and Christmas). Walter's is on the other side of the water, kinda out in the sticks a little bit. They have a bit of land and a nice open deck that's awesome for barbeques.

So today's gathering was really awesome. It felt like more people were there than usual; a while back, there was this period of time where every family get-together felt really bare and it was kind of depressing. I'm toward the end of my generation's wave (there are two boys younger than I am). For a long time there was just always a gaggle of girls around my sister's age (I was JUST young enough for them to not want me around)--I say "gaggle" because 4 of those girls belonged to my uncle's group of 7 kids, 2 others were my dad's sister's kids, and there was my sister. I feel like I need to draw out a chart. Bottom line: lots of kids, mostly girls.

So eventually most of these girls went off to college and then a few of them got married. So they were off doing their own things. Suddenly a bunch of them showed up today and it was awesome to see all of them, plus their kids (the "next generation" is now up to three). Jack is only just over a year old but he's very quiet and I was never asked to hold him, so in my book he's right as rain.

What the hell was my original point? Oh right, the pleasantness of a big family gathering. I got some questions about college (which is starting to stress and annoy me) but it wasn't too in-depth, and it was nice to hear everyone catching up and getting along. I think my favorite thing was when I was sitting by the chips (which I generally do until someone comes over and talks to me) and my cousin came over and said, "Hey, we're going to the same school this year, right?" Now, this is the cousin who has said maybe a couple of obligatory "Hellos" to me in the last 8 years or so. He and his brother sort of took to hiding upstairs whenever company showed up. He turned 18 yesterday. It's so weird because he and his brother will always be about 10 and 8 to me, in khakis and plaid shirts. But here they are, growing up very nicely and, it must be said, very well dressed. And then to top it all off, Sam SPOKE to me! I guess it was just nice to see that the boys had grown out of the Hiding phase and were socializing like normal family members, making comfortable conversation. It was very worth their being pricks as children and hermits as young teenagers.

Then my uncle got out the spud gun. He and "The Boyfriends" (cousin Anna's boyfriend Louis and Steph's boyfriend) shot a few potatoes into the trees behind the house and the distance was pretty impressive. And the sound was AWESOME.

So what have we learned today, everyone? Every now and then, Emma enjoys a picturesque family scene. Chatting aunts, beautiful cousins with beautiful children (as long as the children are behaving, which they were), going from the kitchen to the back yard with potato salad and dodging said children, everyone cringing when Aunt Susie says things and knowing we can groan about it together on the ferry ride home. It's strange, considering my total lack of interest in a family of my own, how much I enjoy observing the growth of the ones close to me. I hope one day I'll be able to show up to these things with interesting stories. For the foreseeable future I'll have to stick to anecdotes exemplifying just how poor I am (unless I get a minimum-wage job for 10-15 hours a week--fingers crossed!).

ramblerambleramble

You are the burden of my generation / I sure do love you / But let's get that straight. -That Was Your Mother, Paul Simon

Good Day To Be A Sounder

Song of the Day: Seattle by Perry Como

2-6. Holy cow. The score was 4-0 Sounders at the end of the first half. And then every time the Crew got a goal, the Sounders went, "Nope" and scored another one. Actually I take that back, one was an own goal.

While I'm (generally) a pretty gracious loser (unless something horribly unfair happened), I'm a pretty awful winner. I've noticed it mostly in board games/video games. I yell a lot during the actual game and then flip victorious shit if I win. I think I'm like the annoying kid in elementary school who was insanely obnoxious when they won, but if they lost they were all, "Calm down, it's just a game." I probably would have been a lot meaner to Michael but the Crew was really just torn asunder and I didn't think he needed the full monty of trash talk. I still pelted him a few times though. Sorry! Bros?

It was very cool that Cunningham set the score record though. Kinda sucks that he has to associate that with such a bad game. I do feel bad about that.

Welp, I'm headed to Blake Island for a picnic/barbeque dinner with Steph and Max. Still sporting my jersey like a dork.

I really love how Keller kicks the ball. He just MEANS it every time, like "Get the HELL out here!" It amuses me. I also love how the TV network doesn't bother censoring or even being careful during games. I know there's only so much they can do since it's live, but during the last two games I've watched I could CLEARLY hear a line of a song in which the ECS enthusiastically screams, "WE DON'T HEAR A FUCKIN' THING!" That, too, amuses me.

My hands are shaking and I'm not sure why. Maybe I shouldn't drink coffee past noon.

Take 'em all, take 'em all / Put 'em up against the wall and shoot 'em / Short and tall, watch 'em fall / Come on boys, take them all.

Spaceship

Song of the Day: Whatever Norway's EuroVision song was

All right. Short bloggerooni today. Because it is 1:30 a.m., but I didn't come this far to miss a day.

I invented a new game tonight. Actually I invented it last Thursday on the way home from "Stonehenge," but it really took shape tonight. It's simple: find a road with no streetlights, make sure it's going to be straight for a decent amount of time, and see how long you're willing to leave the headlights off. Also, make sure there are no cops. I sort of sprung the game on Abbie and Brett. I said, "Hey, want to see what it's like to be in a space ship?" And then I killed the headlights. They freaked out and threatened my life, but before long they were asking me to do it again whenever we got to straight backroads. We went to Beth's and then drove around in the dark listening to (and in some cases laughing at) EuroVision songs. I love them both lots and am very thankful that Skype exists because Brett flies out tomorrow and Abbie leaves in a week.

In other news, I went cello shopping today. I have two on trial and I pretty much need to reach a decision by next Friday. I went SLIGHTLY over the limit set by my dad although today he seemed to be willing to be flexible. I think if I offer to give up Christmas gifts in return for going over budget, he might oblige. Either way, I might actually be able to display my full capabilities on a decent instrument, which is exciting.

Sounders vs. Crew tomorrow, so I'd better rest up. Good day.

I got two hands on the sunshine / I got one foot in the grave / I got 25 cents in my wallet / And I'm feeling mighty lucky today. -Lucky Today, Cloud Cult

Do The Thinking For Me

Song of the Day: Flathead by The Fratellis

I have nothing of note to report today and didn't feel like my usual faux-philosophical rambling, so I found a survey (the likes of which used to haunt MySpace and occasionally still find their way onto Facebook) to fill out today. Happy freakin' birthday to you, right?

Who were you with last night?

Tumblr.

What woke you up this morning?

A call from work (which I ignored, which turned out to be a good decision because they left a message saying not to come in for my paycheck today).

Where are you?

Earth.

Is tomorrow going to be a good day?

Hopefully! I'm going cello shopping =]

Did you kiss or hug anyone today?

Nope.

When's the last time you cried?

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2.

The PAST

Ever thrown up in public?

Probably as a baby, but other than that, no. Unless school counts. That sucked.

Passed out because of alcohol?

Nopity no.

What's on your mind RIGHT NOW?

The fact that I'm a huge straight-edge.

The FUTURE

Would you take a bullet for anyone?

I'd attempt to. But they're pretty fast.

Where would you like to live?

Seattle. Or rather, the surrounding suburbs. Greenwood would be awesome.

What kind of house would you like?

Smallish. Me-ish.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Happy. Adventuresome. The crazy woman with a banjo.

Where do you see yourself in years?

Could you be more specific?

Who was the last person that left you a comment?

Blog? YouTube? If blog, then Abbie.

Are you good friends with this person?

Duh.

How often do you log in to facebook?

Daily.

IN GENERAL

Do you like candy necklaces?:

Love 'em.

When's the last time you fell or ran into something?

Ha. When's the last time I DIDN'T?

Do you still go trick or treating?

No, too old. Boo.

What was the last thing you ate?

A brownie.

Are you a fast typer?

Fast enough.

About how many people have you driven with?

I'm not sure what this means.

What are you doing this weekend?

Cello shopping tomorrow, watching the Sounders/Crew game on Saturday (unfortunately not in person), probably visiting my grandma on Sunday.

Whats your favorite type of soda?

I don't like soda. YEAH I SAID IT.

Have you ever moved?

Twice.

Have you ever won an award?

Yup. Won the Director's Award in orchestra, senior year. For leadership/enthusiasm/hard work/dedication. It even came with a little bitty scholarship.

How many times have you eaten sushi?

Zero, and I intend to keep it that way.

What do you want to do right now?

Play Quidditch. I'll probably end up practicing cello instead.

Are you listening to music right now?

No, strangely enough. I hear a lawn mower though, that's semi-rhythmic.

Are you with someone right now?

foreveralone.jpg

Whats a word or phrase that you love?

"Always," because it's ironically relative/subjective. It's a very pleasantly stretchy sort of word. Plus it reminds me of both Harry Potter and The Hunger Games.

How long until your birthday?

3 months and 3 weeks exactly.

When were you the saddest in your whole life?

Yikes. Probably when Andrew died, the summer after sixth grade. A church full of quietly crying twelve-year-olds was probably one of the more awful things I've seen.

What time is it now?

3:05 p.m.

Do you think anyone will repost to this?

No, because this is not 2006.

What makes you pissed off?

Arrogance, disrespect, injustice.

Have you ever had a song written about you?

Not to the best of my knowledge.

What song makes you cry?

The one that comes closest is "End of an Era" by Oliver Boyd & The Remembralls, but it really goes past crying and just sort of makes me gag on my emotions. So I don't listen to it.

What songs makes you happy?

All the ones that don't make me sad.

What do you like to listen to before you go to bed?

Lullabies.

Do you have a job??

Do you?? So accusatory. I guess I don't anymore.

What does Your CD player have in it right now?

Good lord, I haven't used a CD player in ages. The one in my car always has my Harmed Brothers CD in it though. The one album I truly never tire of. *grammargrammargrammar*

If you were a crayon what color would you be?

I like to think I'd be some shade of red or green.

What makes you happy?

Good friends, good music, accomplishments, fireworks, blankets (and forts thereof), road trips, wind, thunder, books, bicycles, shared victories, Disney, Disneyland, animals, dancing, the Green brothers, Christmas, snow, and the smell of rosin. Oh, and Hugh Jackman.*

Height?

5'0".

Hair?

What about it?

Piercings?

3. One in each earlobe and left cartilage.

Tattoos?

Treble clef/peace sign on my arm, giraffe on my shoulder, runes just under my collarbone.

What are you wearing?

Shame on you.

What taste is in your mouth?

Toothpaste, I guess.

Do you have a bad habit?

Doesn't everyone?

*Scrubs? Anyone?

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine / I keep my eyes wide open all the time. -I Walk The Line, Johnny Cash

The Middle of the Beginning of...the Beginning?

Song of the Day: Symphony No. 2 by Johannes Brahms

I had my last piano lesson today. It struck me that I haven't had to deal with many "lasts" since high school ended. There was Harry Potter, but that was a different sort of ending. That didn't require speaking on my part. When it's the last time I'm likely to see someone, I'm actually really no good with goodbyes. With my piano teacher I managed a "Thank you so much," but in most cases it's even less. When I'm faced with the chance/opportunity/whatever to tell people how I actually feel I back the hell out. "Hi, my name is Emma and I'm emotionally unavailable."

THE POINT is that it made me realize that there will be a lot of lasts headed my way in the next few weeks. I'm picking up my last paycheck tomorrow, I'll eventually be spending my last night in my bed at home (assuming I never have to move back home because I'm so poor, knock on wood). The one I'm most worried about is my last cello lesson. My teacher and I have become so close and she probably knows me better than anyone in my family, even without my having to tell her things. She's improved my confidence so much. Whenever I'm not giving 100% she says, "No kinda." She's worked really hard to help me show how much I love my music, which is one of my biggest hurdles (again with the emotional unavailability). But I'm doing my best to apply the "no kinda" attitude to life outside of music, too. Maybe I should get her a card; I can express myself much better *read "honestly"* in writing than verbally. My friends generally get no spoken affirmation of how much I love them, and then it all comes spilling out in Christmas and birthday cards xD

Welp, my blackberry cobbler is ready to exit the oven. This has been a post.

So we'll go walkin' but nobody's talkin' / 'Cause everything just seems clear. -Track 03, The Harmed Brothers (The CD was homemade and the tracks weren't named)

Really Obscure "Matter" Joke To Follow

Song of the Day: Baby (You've Got What It Takes) by Michael Buble

Sometimes I get to the end of a day and feel like I've really accomplished things. Then I remember that Elijah Wood was Frodo when he was 18 years old and I sort of give up.

Not actually, but perspective is important. Take today, for example. I called my eye doctor, Skyped with my best friend who has been out of the country and therefore out of contact for a couple of weeks, reserved a U-Haul truck for moving day, and currently have brownies in the oven for my dad's work picnic tomorrow. Those are all things that needed to be done for MY life to go more smoothly, even if they don't affect more than one or two people around me. So does that make them important?

Sometimes I make myself dizzy trying to figure out whether I and the things I do are important in a big picture kind of way. By getting things done that seem important to me, I keep my life running and make one less crazy person in the world. So that's important.

Cosmically, nothing we do matters. We have no current contact with life outside of Earth's atmosphere. And very few people's actions have global repercussions. So what defines a person as "important?" For clarification, I'm not an existentialist. Not really. I mean, in a really big-picture way, we don't matter. But in smaller big pictures, we do. If an action of mine has an effect on anyone other than myself, it immediately takes on more importance. There's this weird web of importance where the people who matter to me don't matter at all to anyone else, and some people who matter to me matter to another person, and people important to a guy somewhere else don't mean shit to me. Then people like John and Hank come along and say, "Yeah, you DO matter. And you're awesome."

This is in no way where I meant for this post to go. I'm glad only two people read this, because if it were public everyone would completely lost faith in my sanity. I appreciate that you forgive my psychotic rambling >.<

Up, down, strange charm, top, bottom / If you don't know what a quark is, it don't matter--you still got 'em. -Strange Charm, Hank Green

House Pride

Song of the Day: Cotton by The Mountain Goats

I could very easily freak out about potential financial aid disaster, but I think I'll wait on that until it becomes a for-sure disaster. In the meantime, let's talk about Hogwarts!

People keep flipping shit on Tumblr and Twitter about which house the Pottermore Sorting Hat will put them into. I honestly think there is pride in every house. And honestly, if you know what house you WANT to be in, you probably identify most with that house anyway and will probably end up in it. If not, maybe you'll find that you're a bit braver or smarter or whatever than you thought. For no reason whatsoever besides my own amusement and thought-disentanglement, I thought I'd put together a run-down of my thoughts on the four Houses.

Ravenclaw: So obviously we have the book smarts in this house. But I think it has to do with the quest for knowledge as well, not just already being a know-it-all. Luna is a very interesting example of this. While she may believe in things without solid proof, in doing so she is displaying open-mindedness and a willingness to accept new ideas. She has a ton of knowledge; people don't know what she's talking about half the time. Then there's the fact that the heirloom of Ravenclaw, the diadem, was lost/hidden. It's a ready-made mystery to be solved. So why wasn't Hermione, with her insatiable thirst for knowledge, placed in Ravenclaw? Well the Sorting Hat did consider it, Hermione says so herself. But I think it also saw her potential for courage and knew she would have a home in Gryffindor. Plus, let's give the Sorting Hat some credit. It has seen quite a lot of history, and may have more than a couple tricks up its metaphorical sleeve. Did it ACTUALLY know Harry would need Hermione so much? Maybe not. But it did know she was more than a girl with her nose in a book.

Slytherin: Slytherin has always gotten a bad rap. I think it's a square/rectangle situation, where all bad wizards were once Slytherins, but not all Slytherins are bad. Because the traits found in Slytherins like cunning and ambition are pretty necessary to the life of a "successful" Death Eater, but aren't synonymous with "evil." When Phinneas Nigellus told Harry, "Given the choice, Slytherins always choose to save our own necks," that made me think that Slytherins are about survival, and sometimes that takes a coldness that is perceived as evil. And there were always people like Tom Riddle and Malfoy running the joint, so of course everyone was manipulated into following them. The examples of Slytherins we are given in the books are pretty horrid, but they're not the only ones. Then there's Snape, who changes personalities twenty times. Sullen? Sure. Bitter? Obviously. Dumb to think the Dark Arts would impress a Gryffindor? Clearly. But he wasn't a BAD person. He could have given in to his bitterness and let Harry die in his first year, but he saved him. He always had the capacity to love, and that's what Dumbledore said Voldemort could never do. That's another thing: Dumbledore trusted him. And while there was a chunk of time where we questioned the wisdom of that decision, it turned out to be the right one all along. So while Snape may have been a jerk, he was not evil. Lily and Dumbledore knew that. There is an exception to every rule.

Hufflepuff: I often battle with myself over whether I'm a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor. In the next section I'll go over why I always settle on Gryffindor. Something I've noticed about Hufflepuffs is that, while they are the hipster's house of choice, they are not necessarily stuck-up the way the other houses can be (some of them get uppity about that and the irony runs rampant, but that's not always the case). When people are unsure of which house they belong to you can always hear a Hufflepuff piping up to say "There's room with us!" Hufflepuffs are NOT spares. They are fiercely loyal and hard-working. In "The Sorting Hat's New Song" (book 5) the Hat talks about how 3 of the founders preferred students with certain traits, but Hufflepuff said, "I'll teach the lot, and treat them just the same." Really the only example of Hufflepuff we have (that we actually get to know a little) is Cedric Diggory. During Harry's third year, when he falls off his broom because of the dementors, Hufflepuff wins. But Cedric tries to get a rematch because it was unfair to have the Snitch caught after Harry fell. Pretty admirable move, in my book. Plus during the TwiWizard Tournament, he gets help from Harry and then returns the favor. Granted, not quite as directly as many of us would have liked, but he did still feel the need to help Harry out after getting advice from him. I think there were enough positives to cancel out his terrible taste in women, which Harry shared. In case it wasn't clear, I thoroughly dislike Cho Chang.

Gryffindor: I'm obviously biased, but I'll try to be fair on this one (see? Shit like that is so Hufflepuff). So obviously, bravery is the neon sign over Gryffindor tower. But we see that bravery manifest itself very differently in all the characters. We see how Harry's friends follow him into incredibly dangerous situations because they know it's the right thing to do. Fred and George see a major problem in the school in the fifth book; they stand against it, do a little damage, and then decide to strike out on their own. I'm fairly certain the Hogwarts dropout rate is pretty damn low. They would have been severely punished if they'd been caught, but it was worth that risk for them. Then we have Neville. Neville motherfucking Longbottom. As Dumbledore says, "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends." So much truth. And later, Neville joins the D.A. and starts to see that he's worth something. Once he has that, there ain't a damn snake that can stand in his way. Now with us Muggles choosing our houses, Gryffindors tend to be a bit uppity about it. Although I think after a while, people started choosing other houses just because they WEREN'T Gryffindor (damn hipsters), but that may have been partly due to the fact that people seemed to be favoring Gryffindor just because it was Harry's house (or Ron's or Hermione's). I don't think Gryffindors are the heroes all the time, there are certainly douchebags (Seamus Finnegan, at least temporarily, was definitely one). But I think the bravery stems from a very strong sense of what is right.

I think that's part of what sets Slytherin apart; Gryffindor has that sense of what is right, Hufflepuff is all up into justice, Ravenclaw--while practical--seem to have a good sense of right and wrong. Those three houses are always portrayed as friends and they get along. Then Slytherin comes along with the mindset, "What will help ME?" It becomes less about what is necessarily "right" and more about staying alive and in the game. Voldemort even calls out his supporters about it, scolding them for telling everyone he had bewitched them, then coming back and telling Voldemort they were just waiting for him to come back. I think Max Dettweiller from The Sound of Music would be a Slytherin. He's not necessarily a bad guy, but I remember when I was younger I asked my mom whose side he was on, and she said, "Whichever side wins."

Okay. So why I consider myself a Gryffindor. I am not all that brave, to be honest. But look at The Lion King. Simba says, "I just wanted to be brave like you," and Mufasa replies, "I'm only brave when I have to be." He explains that being brave doesn't mean going looking for trouble (baba ba ba ba ba bahhh). Courage isn't getting up in the morning and thinking, "I'm going to be brave today!" *pokes sleeping bear* It means not running away from problems when they arise and fighting only when necessary. We see that with Neville, too; he doesn't swagger around doing heroic shit, but when the time comes he stands up for himself and/or beheads a gorram snake. So I guess that's why I'm a Gryffindor. I'm not always brave, but I know that I can be. Besides, I'm not smart enough for Ravenclaw or cunning enough for Slytherin. So...roar.

I think this is long enough. I've said my piece. Have a pleasant evening regardless of your House.

And never did they dream that they / Might someday be divided / For were there such friends anywhere / As Slytherin and Gryffindor? / Unless it was the second pair / Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?

Beauty is Bullshit. And Not.

Song of the Day: Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash

The other day, out of curiosity, I searched "beautiful" on Tumblr and the results were both fascinating and horrifying. Landscapes, dramatic storms, flowers, Emma Watson, Lindsay Lohan, 6-inch high heels covered in metal studs, beaches, Miley Cyrus, animals, their best friends, themselves. Beauty is so incredibly subjective. For example, Angelina Jolie is generally considered to be unbelievably beautiful. I think she's lovely, but honestly I think it's the fact that she looks slightly strange that hooks people in. It's her eyes. And when she accentuates them with dramatic makeup, she takes on a sort of exotic look and it translates to "beautiful." I personally think she looks much more beautiful when she sports a softer look.

That's just one example. But what we consider beautiful affects the way we behave. That difference is what makes one person have no problem with clear-cutting trees while another chains themselves to one in order to save them. It's what makes someone throw paint on a woman wearing fur.

Somehow that leads me back to yesterday's post; I love the countryside so much, but I don't think I could live that far away from people. Even in a small town. One of the things I love so much about where I live now is that I could make a day trip out of anything I want: city, mountains, forest, ocean, country. I don't think I could be removed from all of that. I don't even know my head from my ass if I can't locate the water.

I don't know where I'm going with this. As usual, I don't have a point. Or if I do, I can't articulate it. This is why I can't do "Thoughts from Places" style videos.

I think this is why I don't normally blog every day. I don't always have things to say. So when I try to say them anyway it just comes out all "herpa derp herp the derpa von herpington." I should probably go do things with my life; a phrase which here means, "play cello until I get frustrated and go for a walk at some point."

This short and disjointed post brought to you by the number 21 and the letter E.

Though I'd like to look down on the Earth from above / I would miss all the places and people I love / So although I might like it for one afternoon / I don't want to live on the moon. -Ernie and Aaron Neville (just a Sesame Street kind of day I guess)

A Lot of Moving

Song of the Day: Down to the River to Pray by RedDog

We (Bahia and the Lore) performed today at the Island County Fair. It turned out to be quite fun. The acts before us were all from a local dance school, and they were really fun to watch. The audience response was enthusiastic and supportive for every single act, which was really nice to see and created a great community atmosphere. It was kinda funny because the fairgrounds are pretty small, so in between our songs (many of which are pretty mellow) we could hear the petrified screams of tweens on the rides. We had a good performance though; despite the heat, our energy was up and we all played well (I even rocked my solos). Afterward we went to Coupeville (a cute little beach town on the sound) for lunch with Bahia and Maria and their respective mothers, and it was surprisingly pleasant. I thought it might be strange and/or boring to be the only young-ish person there. Luckily I wasn't just peppered with questions about college.

The drive out and back was really lovely. I love driving. I can think about things, or they can just go away for a while. It was nice driving through rural-ish Washington and listening to bluegrass. Very comforting.

While I was waiting for the ferry this morning I saw an old couple (probably in their seventies, maybe eighties) walking to a restaurant and they were holding hands. It was somehow reassuring to see a couple that had been together for so long and hadn't started to hate each other.

I may go to Portland next week to visit Lucas. It would be both a good and a bad thing. Good because I miss him quite a lot and Portland is cool, but bad because that will mean I don't have hours this week. And my official last day is Saturday. Right now I'm not on the schedule at all because my numbers were bad (here's my question: how am I supposed to fix that if I don't work AT ALL?), but my manager is supposed to call me tomorrow and I'm going to ask for a shift on Tuesday, maybe a closing shift on Wednesday too. If he doesn't give me anything on Thursday or Friday, I'll start the process of wheedling my parents into letting me leave them with one car for those two days. But I gotta make sure I'm home for that game on Saturday ;)

Yesterday my mom was commenting on the fact that I don't talk to her and said, "I hope there's someone you DO talk to. It's not good to keep things bottled up, you know." Okay. 1. There is no WAY I would want to confide in her after seeing the way she treats my dad when he tries to talk about anything. She acts like it's SUCH a chore to listen to him. She'll just walk out of the room. Guess what, bitch? You married the guy. You could at least pretend to have a little respect for him. 2. Yeah, there ARE people I talk to. People who don't roll their eyes at me constantly and then wonder why I won't open up. 3. I disagree. Sometimes things get bottled up and then they go away and everything's fine. Problem solved. MOTHER GET OUT OF MY BLOG. I AM DETERMINED TO BE CONTENT TODAY.

I want to go dancing. I wish Emily were home. Even though I never end up getting asked much and dance pretty poorly when I do, a night out with her is always a fun one. And I love it even if I'm terrible at it. God, I'm in an abusive relationship with dance xD

I need to go write a song called "Nomad Mountain Outlaws." I saw that on a sign at a viewpoint on Eastern Washington and can't get it out of my head.

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky / The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes / And everyone knows it whenever she flies / And also when she comes down. -The Ballad of Love and Hate, The Avett Brothers

Things and Stuff

Song of the Day: You Send Me by Sam Cooke

I'm really not looking forward to packing up my room. The last 14 years of my life are in this room (technically I was in the bigger room for a while, but my sister and I switched and the IMPORTANT years were in this room). I am also a pack rat. I just have so much stuff. Stuff I don't need, but can't seem to get rid of. I still have my baby blanket for no reason. It's not like I ever use it.

One of the biggest issues will be my stuffed animals. For a while, I was INSANE over my stuffed animals. At the moment they're being stored in the basement. But I know that when I have to take them out and get rid of them, I'll have a specific reason why I should keep each one. There are a few that I simply won't be able to get rid of (the leopard my grandpa gave me, Lady from Lady & the Tramp who I still insist has healing powers, the lion that's as big as I am). It's going to be awful to get rid of the others, but I know I'll have to. I used to play with them and in doing so I gave them personalities. So it feels like they have emotions and will be hurt if I donate them. TOY STORY 3, GUYS. Maybe I'll just stash them somewhere and give them to my sister's kids one birthday at a time.

Then there's the stuff on my walls. Some of it I can get rid of, some of it I can take with me. Some things I'd like to put somewhere other than my walls, but where? If I'm honest with myself I won't scrapbook it. I only just have enough patience to put all my ticket stubs into a journal. But I have drawings my friends made me, signed playbills from musicals, photobooth reels, blah blah blah. Ok, this is the extent to which I keep stuff: Summer of 2008 I worked at a daycamp. After camp one day the other leaders in my group and I were prepping for a craft the next day, and one guy was goofing off making a little box growl and snap at us. We drew some teeth on it and glued empty water balloons to the top to look like eyes. That was the extent of the box monster's life. THE DAMN THING IS SITTING ON MY SHELF. I just keep everything, like I'll forget about it if I don't. And the thing is, I kind of think I WOULD forget if I didn't keep all this stuff.

I think I just need to close my eyes and throw it away. I get too attached to a lot of things, because I idealize and romanticize everything (except, ironically, romance itself). I think I've made this place too permanent, which is making the realization of its temporariness suck all the more.

I seriously remember where I got every single thing in this room. How am I supposed to just let go of that?

You know what else I should throw out? Sentimental Emma. She writes annoying posts. Literary Emma is now going to go read "The Warlock" by Michael Scott, and Polite Emma bids you a pleasant evening.

Well all these times, they come and go / Alone don't seem so long / Over ten years have gone by / We can't rewind / We're locked in time. -Do You Remember, Jack Johnson

Rocks

Song of the Day: You're Not There by Eddplant

My butt is so tired. (I bet THAT got your attention). But for good reason! Allow me to start at the beginning of this tale.

Today started out like any mundane Thursday with a trip to the doctor's office, where they unexpectedly stole my blood. It's funny how I'll willingly get tattoos, and then you put me in a doctor's office and I'm all, "BLUH, needles!" I don't actually have a problem with needles (like queasiness or fainting), I just find them unpleasant. But tolerable. ANYWAY. I was slated to hang out with Kayley afterward, and on the way to her house I saw a tweet from her saying she wanted to do some quintessentially "American" things before she leaves for England.

So she got in my car and I mentioned that. We looked to twitter for ideas (most of it was pretty unhelpful, although my favorite suggestion from her followers was "salute things") but eventually settled on finding a "World's Largest" thing near enough to drive to. She looked it up on her iPad and found nothing, but in searching for landmarks she found out that there is a replica of Stonehenge in Washington. She turned to me and said, "It's on the river. That's a four-hour drive." I thought for a second and replied, "I have nowhere to be tonight." So at about 1:30 p.m. we set out for I-5.

It was actually a really lovely trip. I-90 through the mountains is always beautiful (I actually prefer being a passenger for that so I can look at the rivers, but oh well) and there was only a bit of Eastern Washington that lived up to the stereotype of being "dead." Seriously, the hills were drained of color. But THEN we got into some gorgeous farming country with patchwork fields bright green, and there were white wind turbines on top of the hills against the intensely blue sky. Living in a place with so many trees, I don't often see that much of the sky, and it was wonderful. Kayley's Twitter followers got to see some of my finer quotations from the trip xD

We finally made it to the Columbia River Gorge and Stonehenge. Basically the story behind why it exists is this guy went to England and saw the real thing during WWI. At the time the theory behind it was less calendrical and more human-sacrifice-y. He saw parallels between that and the war, so he came back to the States and built a replica of Stonehenge as a war memorial to fallen soldiers. It's pretty cool. The view on the Gorge is STUNNING, especially in the evening (we ended up being there around 6). The Henge sits right on a cliff-ish type deal, Below it is a small vineyard or some such thing, and then the river. There were some rock outcroppings that made excellent spots to stand and yell things like, "I'm king of the world!"

Besides a sore tailbone from a combined 8 hours of sitting in the driver's seat, this trip pretty much didn't do anything negative for me. There was something beautiful and liberating about deciding to go somewhere and just going there. Just because we could. Gas prices be damned. It also reminded me that I really like being with Kayley one-on-one (not that I remembered it unpleasantly, we just don't very often). When it's just us, just Padfoot and Prongs, we fall back into being buds and it doesn't feel like we rarely get to see each other. We were able to make jokes and car-dance and just be goofy, and we were on an even keel again. We also listened to a lot of Ed from Chameleon Circuit's solo music and I'm really inspired to write songs now, except that I'm shit at songwriting. I gotta get some tragedy up in my life or something (but not actually).

I also tried the most simultaneously horrific and beautiful sandwich in the history of creation. Kayley got some footage today and that was part of it, and I can't imagine she'd leave it out when she edits it together. I'm actually pretty excited to see the final product xD

So yeah. Excellent day all around, and I have a sore tailbone and inner elbow to prove it. And even though it is now past midnight this is Thursday's post. Now I have to go never spend money ever again to make up for filling up the tank today.

I have seen all I need / to roam free within these streets / Climbing up walls that are never too tall / feeds my soul. -Serendipity, Greg Holden

Quelf

Song of the Day: Do You Love Me by The Blues Brothers

Well, after hearing about it from le interwebs so darn much, I finally played Quelf tonight. There was only one card/challenge that I opted out of, so yay me. I was probably slightly more reserved than I might normally be because while I was familiar with my sister, her boyfriend, and Steph's high school friend (also named Stephanie), their friend Neil was there and I had never met him. But he was super cool and it didn't take long to be comfortable around him. I think Quelf would make a good ice-breaker game (except that it takes forever); it forces you to be ridiculous and you have to interact with all the other players. It's a good time.

I've noticed that I'm linguistically impressionable. Like if I'm around someone and I like the way they talk, I subconsciously start picking that up. It only takes one episode of "Firefly" for me to start talking like a cowboy.

I feel like I should say more, but not much else happened to me today. And to say any more would be boring and rambly. So methinks I shall leave it here. Consider the short post a Thursday Treat. Especially because I will potentially have some things to say about Western medicine come tomorrow afternoon. Plus I'm slated to have an adventure, which is a very exciting prospect!

I guess I'm just a lucky so and so. -Just A Lucky So and So, Louis Armstrong

Comb Your Hair, Pretend You're Sober

Song of the Day: You Can Call Me Al by Paul Simon

I love days like today. I actually went outside and acted like a citizen. I woke up pretty late (oops) and went to lunch with my sister. Now, I'm a little person, but normally I can eat pretty well. For some reason, I couldn't even conquer a turkey melt. It was DELICIOUS, but way too much food. I didn't even end up having dinner because I was still so full from it.

Anyway, we took a walk around Green Lake (not realizing just how warm it was until we were about half way around) and then I dropped her off before taking mine and my dad's ballots to a local ballot box (that's where the "being a citizen" bit comes in). I then came home, learned Hank Green's "Shake-a-Booty" dance, filmed it and sent him the clip to use in the music video. But was my day over? NAY.

Abbie and I decided to try out a new frozen yogurt joint in town. We definitely weren't the only ones with that idea. But I can see why. You get to choose what size cup you want (big or bigger) and then there are a zillion levers in the wall and you can get your own, so you get exactly as much as you want and you can combine it any way you choose. Then there's a topping bar (aside from fruit, they have cookie dough bits and freaking cereal. Cinnamon Toast Crunch, for crying out loud!!). There's a scale attached to the cash register so you plunk the finished product down on that, then they charge you by the weight of it. And the price was pretty decent. I got mango yogurt with strawberries and a few Peachie-Os. Muy tasty.

We ended up playing a bit of a game we have. The rules are simple: she tells me when and where to turn. It's fun because we get to see bits of our town that we haven't seen, and always find ourselves saying, "Oh, we're HERE? I know where we are NOW!" I took us through a super creepy neighborhood with absolutely NO lights anywhere. We managed to avoid picking up ghosts though, so...go team. Eventually we just drove to Seattle, across it and right back out again. Basically we drove around it. But it's nice, just to drive. Sometimes we talk, other times we don't need to so much. One of the big things I'm going to miss when I'm at school is driving.

There is one high heel in my room. It's been here for ages and I haven't the foggiest idea where it came from. I have never owned a high-heeled shoe. Can't walk in them. I nearly went to prom in Chucks.

So that was my day. Not too shabby, in my opinion.

Also, 4-1 today? Gotta love my boys in green.

I got marbles in my mouth / A thousand words I wanna say but it's impossible to spit 'em out / I can barely make a sound. -Do You Love Me, Guster

Oh, Youtube

Song of the Day: The Captain by Guster

This Saturday, the 20th, is going to be my one-year YouTube-iversary. That's super weird. I'm still the awkward new kid. I've uploaded 36 videos over this past year.

Sometimes I feel like I have things to say, but then I sit down in front of the camera and nothing happens. Some of the people I watch are primarily there to be funny (like Hayley Hoover and Michael Buckley), and they do a wonderful job. People like John and Hank and Rosianna manage to not only update us on their lives (which they somehow made us care about) but they also seem to have a point every time. That's what keeps people coming back and watching their videos. The videos ends and we're left with something to think about. I feel like that's something that my videos are missing, that crucial element that makes them more than just a girl ranting about her first world problems.

I don't like to upload videos just for the sake of doing so, and I so often lack creative ideas for them. I'm hoping that school (both the classes and just being around people) will kickstart my brain and I'll be able to make some decent quality videos. It's interesting that my most-viewed video (that wasn't pimped by Kayley or a response to someone else) was a short one in which I basically said, "Don't let other people's opinions shape yours. Take pride in your personality." At the time I was a little hesitant about posting it because it felt cheesy and overdone. But I think things like that don't really get old as long as you mean it. Which I did.

One thing I really love about putting content out there is starting to recognize usernames. When I see comments from the same person consistently, it reminds me that someone is loyal and trusts the quality enough to watch everything I post. That makes me feel like I'm talking to more than just a camera, which is a good feeling.

I don't remember why I started vlogging. I know I wanted to do it since I was 14, but when I initially asked for a decent camera my mom said no because she believes the internet is made of stalkers and rapists. They're definitely out there, but they will generally only get you if you're a dumbass. So when I got my Mac, the built-in iSight was there and I just thought, why the hell not? And I'm glad I did it. There are now people I speak (or rather, type) to that I otherwise wouldn't, people I want to meet that I wouldn't have had any idea existed. It's a very unique community, no matter what level of fame you claim/aspire to.

I feel like I should do something cool for my one-year video. As usual, I lack ideas. Ho hum.

There's certain rules you should obey / Like don't ever FTBA / And now I come to think of it / Let's take the worldsuck down a bit. -Nerdfighteria Island, Hank Green