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