That day was a fairy tale

A week ago last night, I was out dancing the night away with people I love, with one person in particular. Yep, prom’s long gone now. Throughout this past week, I found myself looking at the girls that had prepared a little bit too much. They were the ones that went fake tanning for MONTHS beforehand just to make sure their skin was the perfect backdrop for their dresses. I’m glad I’m not like that and found it sad that there are girls out there that are.

I honestly couldn’t have dreamed up a better date. There were times when he lifted me up and twirled me around. He even did that dance move where he dipped me down low and then kissed me. During “Today Was A Fairy Tale” by Taylor Swift, he lifted me up and swayed back and forth with me in his arms. People all around were smiling at the couple that was so in love. We were and are that couple. Prom was a dream come true, which sounds cliche, but it was.

After the dance, we went bowling and Robby amazed me by being great at it, which I never had knowledge of. Then, at my house, we socialized, but when everyone else was dropping like flies to sleep we sat on the old green wicker chairs that we have set up looking out over the hill behind our house and onto our land. I sat in his lap and we watched the sun come up together. We talked about anything and everything while we were waiting, and when the sun finally rose, we were breathless. Course, after that, we ate some breakfast and then fell asleep together on the couch in the family room. That day was a fairy tale.

When my child is old enough to go to their first prom, I will be able to gush about my junior prom. Now I’m excited for Robby’s prom next year, for this relationship sha’n’t be ending any time soon.

Advertisements

Blue by U!

When I got that phone call I seriously wanted to slam the phone down and run to my room.

Thoughts running through my mind during the telephone call: HELP OUT WITH A YOUTH TRACK PROGRAM?!?!?!? Can she possibly be SERIOUS?!?!?  I stopped babysitting because I reached the realization that I DON’T like kids. Now that I’ve agreed to help out I have to spend every Tuesday and Thursday with a bunch of little brats? What am I getting myself into?

Yeah, that’s about it. She asked me to help coach the Blue by U track program with Kevin and Cliff who had already spent time coaching for a week and a half. Last year she had a group of children only half the size of the group this year. She was in over her head. But just a little bit.

So, I said “sure!” …and then I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. She sounded desperate, and that won me over. It wasn’t that I spoke before I thought (I’ve learned that thinking before speaking is essential in this world), it was that I truly wanted to help out. I’m glad I said “sure!”

A month later, here I am. The program is over (well, they have a meet on Thursday, but I have plans with friends that day so I am unable to attend) and I’m really glad that I offered my services. I met a great bunch of kids (and sure, a few pips here and there). The girls basically worshiped me and the boys never stopped trying to race me with hopes of beating me (I may have crushed their spirits a bit). The coaches thought Cliff, Kevin, Christian and I were experts on everything having to do with track. I guess we all kind of are. We’re all running nerds.

All in all, it was a great experience. The kids I got to work with were great (for the most part). The girls that acted bratty around the boys (Cliff, Kevin and Christian) ended up being absolute sweethearts to me. The boys that were troublemakers for me ended up loving all of the older boys. I was just like the girls when I was little. I didn’t want anything to do with boys, and whenever I saw an older girl (like the age I am now) I wanted to be their best friend. That’s exactly what these girls did to me. They wouldn’t leave me alone. It was really neat.

I’m glad I volunteered. Not only can I walk away from the track with a smile on my face, but I can also put this on any resumé I make up in the future with Coach Jen as my reference. She suckered me into all this, and I’m really glad she did. I had a blast.

But here it comes again

Right now Mother Nature is displaying my favorite kind of weather: rain. And it’s not that yucky cold rain that makes everything look miserable – it’s of the nice spring variety; my favorite. It’s the kind that makes me want to sit out on the porch for hours on end. Or, at least, until it stops comin’ down.

I don’t know why, but I love the rain. It’s just something new and different after a couple of dry days. Right now I am experiencing a strong urge to tie on my bathing suit and frolic around in the falling wetness. After this long week that seems like the perfect thing to do, but I’ll never do it. Not by myself, at least. I’ll wait until I have a certain someone to frolic with.

Oh, that’s original [/sarcasm]

I think I might be growing up. Well, I guess what it is is that I’m certain that I am growing up and developing new tastes in everything.

I used to be intrigued by boys who dyed their hair black and wore tight pants and band tees. Now I want them to get a pair of pants that fit them properly in certain places and to get the hair dye removed. The band tees can stay, I suppose. Until I want those to be gone as well. They think they are so “unique” just because they have the guts to put on some eyeliner. I am over that.

Then there are these girls that have the “scene” hair  and wear makeup that makes it look like they’re dead. Yeah, that’s attractive. Or they have regular colored and styled hair, but they have such a huge side part that they have to tilt their head and whip their hair around just to keep it in place. They all think that no one else is like them and hate on people that “just don’t understand.” They sport skinny jeans and Twilight tees and strut around like they own the world. They are so awesome because they can claim that they are “emo” and “bi” (how do these girls know that they’re bisexual if they’ve never even had experiences with the opposite sex? I can’t seem to understand that) and get away with whining about how “nobody understands me and everyone thinks I cut myself just because I’m emo!” Well, duh. Grow up and get used to it.

Not going to lie, I used to want the scene hair. I thought it was neat and super unique. Now I have realized that it really isn’t. I wake up every morning with my curly bedhead and just insert a clip somewhere before rushing out the door. I don’t have time to get all gussied up and straighten my hair every morning just so I can look like everyone else that thinks they’re unique. I’m happy with my curls and don’t want to chase them away with a straightener. I have three pairs of skinny jeans because I like how I look in them – my other thirteen pairs of jeans are what I think are comfortable. I put on mascara so my eyes don’t disappear and then walk out the door to begin my day.

I used to think I was all “emo” and awesome. Now I laugh at those who think the same thing. I’m over it. I’m just me; original in every way because I don’t do what everyone else does.

Climbing to the top

All County tomorrow.

Am I nervous? Naw… I have a kick-ass outfit laid out that is dressy and sophisticated, yet it lets my style show through as opposed to the first outfit I had picked out. Now all I need to do is pack my bag, get some sleep, shower in the morning (this is my review time for the music I’ll be singing that day, of course), gulp down some coffee and a bowl of the last bit of shredded wheat I saved specifically for tomorrow, paint my nails, get dressed, put on some eye makeup so my eyes don’t disappear, clean my glasses, and get out the door successfully. It can be done; I’ve done it all before.

Last year I successfully climbed to the top of my All County ladder and held a major solo in my grasp. Unfortunately, our concert was canceled due to bad weather, but I am certain that that will not be the case this year. If it does happen, I might just jump out of a five-story window. Kidding, of course.

Tomorrow I have to be prepared for anything and everything. You’d better believe that one of my many Emily bags (which to choose?!?) will be transformed into the Barney bag for a while. If you need it, I’ll have it.

Tomorrow’s going to be awesome. I get to sit in a room all day with people that competed to get where they are, just like I and a few of my choir mates have. I get to listen to someone that knows what he’s talking about (not that I don’t get that everyday anyway, because I totally do), but this guy teaches those who are at a college level (my current teacher included). This will be interesting.

My only hope is that we get a nice cozy auditorium with comfy chairs. My bottom hurts right now just thinking of the chairs we had to sit on last year.

As you would have done unto you

I have learned many lessons in my fifteen years. Not as many as other people have, I’m sure, but I am getting there.  I could sit here and try to think of them all, but there is only one that stands out to me everyday to show just how prominent it is. Being polite gets you far. No question about it.

My parents have always taught me to say “please” and “thank you” whenever the chance arises; to be courteous and open a door or two for people, and to help an old lady out by loading her groceries into her car. (Okay, so that hasn’t happened yet, but I am waiting for the chance to do so!) It’s not like we – or I – believe in karma, that what goes around comes around (in this case, it’s a good “what”), it’s more like we go by “do unto others as you would have done unto you.” It’s that sort of thing. So, when I have to pass in front of a person or need a person to move out of the way, I say “excuse me” and get what I needed accomplished complete in a polite and sincere manner. I hold doors open for people, and when I hear a simple “thank you” it makes me happy and brightens my day considerably. I am careful to lower my voice when in public so as to not annoy or aggravate those around me whom I do not know. I am considerate, courteous, and thoughtful. I think about not only what I need, but what others need and wish for as well.

Now, what’s the point of this insightful post? Well, today was one of those days where every person I met was not polite in any way whatsoever. In Walmart, my mother and I were in the produce department looking at the Clementine oranges, and this lady came over and leaned over where we were standing without a single uttering of “excuse me.” Each time someone does this to us, either my mother or myself will say “excuse me” for the person who lacked to do so. It is so rude to just barge in near a person whom you are not acquainted with. The nerve of some people!

Lastly, my mother and I went to Kohls to check out what kind of a selection of flannel shirts they carried. We purchased what we wanted, and headed out the door. Well, almost entering the  door we are heading out of troops three women. Okay, so my mom went on through and opened the outside door for them, and I opened the second door that led to the inside of the store. They walked on by. No acknowledgment. Not a single one of those three women said a tiny little “thank you.” They didn’t even look at us. Well, my mom yelled “you’re welcome!” and then we walked across the parking lot, ranting about how there are no polite people these days.

And it’s the truth. Honestly, some people have no class and are so rude that it kills me. No wonder our country is so messed up. People take the help they receive for granted, and don’t know how to feel thankful for anything. I was raised to be cordial and polite to everyone I ever come in contact with, whether I like the person or not. You’d better believe that my children will have manners and know how to say “thank you” more than every once in awhile. They will appreciate everything I have provided them with, and will hopefully spread it on to this thankless nation. The people in this state, in this country, no, in this world, need a little make-over. Maybe I shall build an arc and rid the world of all of these people with a teensy little flood. Start the world over with a group of people that know and adhere to my policy. “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.”

Emily’s poetry, a history

I’ve been writing poetry for years. My mother named me after her favorite poet, so why not carry it on? I started out with a composition notebook that I decorated with stickers. Everyone just assumed it was my diary, as if it couldn’t be anything but a shallow notebook with all of my deepest secrets and fears hidden inside. Nobody gave me enough credit. Boys would steal it from me, but I managed to get it back without any harm done. They were only teasing. Teasing is harmless, right?

After that was filled, I moved onto a pink camouflage notebook that had pens attached to the front of it. It was nifty because if I had an idea I didn’t have to hunt for a pen before being able to write it down. The pens were just there. That notebook was also known as my “diary” and even a teacher asked: “why do you bring your diary to school?” To which I simply replied: “it’s not a diary.”

I poured random thoughts and whimsical dreams into those notebooks. Within about a month, the pages started ripping out of the pink camo notebook, so I saved the paper, but threw the rest of the notebook in the garbage. It was time to move on again.

I found a regular old yellow spiral notebook and plastered it with quotes, stickers, drawings, and pop-up sunflowers that I ripped off a thing I had at home. Poetry was transferred from my head onto the pages of that thing for about a year. I entered the seventh grade with the same notebook, and only showed the ones I was proud of to my then English teacher (who is now a teacher in the high school). The boys in my grade grew up a little and stopped calling it my diary, and I continued writing.

For my birthday that year, one of my best friends (we barely speak anymore…) bought me a hardcover spiral notebook with puppies on the front. Said notebook lasted me for nearly two years. That notebook taught me something important. Because I wanted the notebook to last, I only wrote poetry when I really really felt like it and had a good feeling about an idea. I decided that I didn’t have to write about everything – but there are some things that I will always wish to remember. I still have one page left in that notebook that remains empty. If I fill it in, the notebook is done forever. I always want to have the option of being able to fill it up totally. It’s amazing to go from the earlier poems in that book to the last few. It’s like traveling through two years of my life in thirty minutes.

Eventually, I took a little notebook that was a party favor at some birthday party I went to (I think it was Carin’s) and ripped out the used pages. I then covered it with duct tape, and voila! New notebook.

Using the duct tape notebook, I rewrote some of the ones I am really proud of, but I also wrote a year’s worth of new material. I am still busy filling it up with my life, so it’s a work in progress. It’s crazy to see how much I have grown in the past year. There are some poems in said book that are extremely naive and young-sounding. I know I will say the same thing in the future when I look back at what I wrote when I was fifteen (the present… for now), but I like what is exploding out of my pen at the moment. Maybe I will post some examples in the near future (which is defined as: later today).