Impermanent

And vague. And also ambiguous. Yes, definately that last one.

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs

I was thinking about this the other day. There were a lot of these little graphs and theories I was meant to memorize and regurgitate for my psych exams and every once in awhile I remember one that clicked. It came to me in a conversation about people, and how a lot of the time, people are not happy. They complain about anything they can find to complain about: the weather, their families, the government, you name it. And as a waitress good God do I hear a lot of complaining. "You should have candles. It's too echoey in here. My stirfry has too many noodles." I swear I've heard it all; but I digress.

The reason this little theory came to mind is that I thought maybe the reason all these people are unhappy with all the teeny, insignificant imperfections they find in their lives is because they can't get past that green part of the pyramid: Esteem. They're so involved in themselves because they haven't achieved reasonable levels of self-confidence yet, and are thus unable to be the calm, rational, unprejudiced people they are meant to be.

Considering I know very few people who could be at the top of the pyramid, this saddened me. And made me think, what could we be doing so wrong where so many people are unable to be happy with themselves? Is there some flaw somewhere in the social framework of our culture that prohibits so many people from achieving self-actualization? Or is it a personal journey separate from cultural constraints?

Insecurities are a strong motivator for irrational behaviour. Almost any question about why someone acts in a way contrary to how you would expect them to can be answered by examining that person's insecurities.

I apologize for the psychobabble, I can't help it sometimes.

Pure Joy

I am a Ghost

I've fallen off the world, and I'm sorry. It had to be done. I'm not back yet, but I'm on my way.

It seems my twenties are marked by a war between ego and depression. Because I sometimes know who I am but then I get a glimpse of something I don't like and decide I'm not good enough. Is it in everyones nature to try and be the perfect self? Is that why we're here, or is it a fruitless search? Is it ever possible to be perfect according to your own idea of the word?

Considering we're fluid beings and the idea of who we want to be is also fluid, how do we get there? How do we get anywhere?

I can pinpoint a few of the things in myself that need adjustment, but how many more flaws are there?

Are they flaws?

I have nothing better to do than attempt to be a better person. I can't decide if that's a good thing.

Is this it? Brief glimpses of enlightenment, a millisecond of understanding and then back to the grind. What world have we created where no one really understands anything, and our tiny spec of existence seems like forever when the universe is millions and millions of years older than our home on this moldy rock.

Look out at the stars and try not to fall off the edge of the earth. I dare you.

I don't pretend to believe in any God. I try to stretch my mind further than that. Far into the reaches beyond anything any of us could imagine to a place where there is no place. We will never know anything and that's the way it is (and always will be.)

So imagine my surprise when I began praying for you.

Try death on for size. The nearness of it fucks with everything you (don't) know.

I'm all alone in a big house.

My dog died this afternoon.

I'm living sans Internet and working twelve hour days.

We probably wont be seeing each other for a few months. I will miss you.

Three Cheers for Narcissism

Whatever, I'm entitled, I just got a new haircut.




They always say that Psychologists are more likely to suffer from mental illness than people in other professions. I guess it's because if you know all the symptoms you're more likely to see them in yourself.

Today I feel bi-polar.



I'm going back and forth between highs and lows. I think I get this way right before a big change. I felt like this around the time I was finishing my degree and moving from Waterloo forever, and next week I'm moving again, away from Toronto. I feel a combo of excitement, fear and anxiety. Very confusing.




Nothing a new haircut and some self-portraits can't fix.

*Cough Cough*

I watched Michael Moore's SiCKO last night and can't stop thinking about it.

First of all, I understand if some of you are skeptical about Moore's films. They are bias and loaded with opinions, even though he makes it seem like you are watching something fact-based. Yes, he bases his films on fact for the most part, but he definitely does not present both sides of the story. There is also evidence that he alters some information to fit it into a mold of his own making. That is the nature of cinema I suppose: You already know your script and the way the movie will turn out before you've even started filming.

However, despite knowing all of this I am still a fan of SiCKO as well as the other films Moore has produced. Not because I think everything he claims is true, not because they are interesting to watch (which they are) but because his films educate and enrage people on issues they should be educated and enraged about. Many people already knew that American health care was lacking before they watched the film, but it helped to really bring the issue to light. Things like this are necessary to collapse this idea that America is somehow Utopian. So many of its citizens idealize the "Land of the Free" as some kind of perfect prototype, and it's important for people to realize that it's not.

As a Canadian watching this movie, I was scared shitless. Yes, we have better healthcare than the States, but it made me realize how fragile that service is and how easily it could escape us. Harper has proposed privatizing healthcare, or changing to a two-tiered system. Public healthcare is one of the things that makes Canada unique from the U.S., and changing that system would be de-evolving. I can see the gradual changes occurring already, from my own personal experience. Canada's drug services are not universal. I am not covered, because I am over 21 and am not working at a job that has a drug plan. Every time I need a puffer it costs me $120 and if I were someone who couldn't afford $120 a month, I would simply need to live without it, unable to breathe.

I apologize for the rant, but I think it is so sad that it takes a loaded movie with cancer patients crying into a frosted camera lens while a sad "broken American dream" ballad plays in the background for people to become aware that something isn't right. Why don't people realize the problem until Michael Moore shoves it into their poor, sickly little faces?

Was it the Wine, the Loneliness or the Prostitute?

Maybe it's the recent lack of meaningful, romantic relationships in my scope (because romance tends to blur my vision. It's as if I neglect the the lens through which I usually view the world because nothing else seems to matter. "Who cares about that, I'm blissful with whats-his-face!")

It could be the bottle of Sauviginon Blanc I drank last night. (Drunkenness often leads to increased awareness... right?)

It might have been the conversation I had with the hooker on our corner, who turned out to be a very nice girl. (Her shoes were hurting. Those things are not practical.)

Irregardless, I had an epiphany: I don't know everything.

I know that may come as a serious shock to you, it definitely did to me. I'll give you a minute to absorb.

...

I usually walk around with an air of infallible confidence. I love argument and debate, because I usually believe that I'm right. I will fight you about anything and try to force you into defeat, but if you somehow manage to shake the grounds of my argument, I will be grateful. I will most likely thank you for teaching me something with which I can use to fight somebody else in the future. But with this new found epiphany, I'm not so sure my confidence is justified. It is usually seen as a positive characteristic, but there is a fine line between being confident and being arrogant. I may be crossing that line.

Psychology is the study of general trends in the population. We're basically trying to figure people out, but people are complicated (thank you, I'm a genius.) All the moments in life, both significant and insignificant, shape who we are, and knowing we all have specific, individual life experiences, how can anyone possibly truly know anyone else? And yet in a single meeting I will judge you. You will judge me. We will both believe we have at least a vague impression about the other, and that impression almost always turns out wrong.

So what then, should we do? Remain humble, I suppose. Keep an open mind, don't judge too quickly and all that. It's easy to say that we should remain non-judgemental, but when it comes to actually applying the "shoulds," it gets a bit tricky.

This is the art of living.

Lesson Learned, Pun Intended

On my lunch today, I sat alone in a sandwich shoppe underneath the office buildings on Bloor Street. I don't mind eating by myself, it gives me time to think and I like to watch people and imagine where everyone is going to or coming from in such a hurry. I noticed an elderly gentleman sit beside me, but I didn't make eye contact because I didn't want him to engage me. I was enjoying my solitude. But he did. I could barely hear what he was saying, it was rather loud where we were, but he began by complementing my shirt.

"My wife wore polka-dots to church once..." he mumbled, I didn't know what that had to do with anything. "Do you play the piano?"

"Yes, why?"

"You look like a piano player."

"And how exactly does one look like a piano player?" What a strange question.

"You look smart. And creative. There's also something about your posture."

And on he went, talking, talking, talking and I attempted to humour him and listen, but I really wasn't in the place to be talking to strange, elderly men. He mentioned Shakespeare, and how he wrote about Shakespeare once. I asked him if he was a writer.

"I consider myself more of a poet. In England, my first published work was when I was eighteen." I didn't believe him. He was quite thin, his face wrinkled and sunken-in, and his clothes looked like he had slept in them for days. His beard was uneven, long sporadic hairs protruded from beneath his shirt and his eyebrows stuck out further than his nose. My first impression was that he was homeless. After a while of feeling intensely uncomfortable, I excused myself to head back to work. He introduced himself to me as Paul Bailey, and I made a mental note to research that name to see if he really was who he said he was.

I immediately looked him up when I got back to the office and the name can up several times, including a picture. His was much younger in the photo, but it was clearly the same man I had eaten lunch with. It turns out, he was being modest about his accomplishments. Paul Bailey was the first-ever recipient of the E.M. Forster Award and won a George Orwell Prize for one of his essays. He is considered an influential writer, and is still publishing work today. I found the following quote which affected me tremendously:

I write because I have to and want to. It's as simple, or as complicated, as that. And I write novels specifically because I am curious about my fellow creatures. There is no end to their mystery. I share Isaac Babel's lifelong ambition to write with simplicity, brevity and precision. It was he who said 'No steel can pierce the human heart so chillingly as a period at the right moment.' I hope one or two of my full stops have done, and will do, just that.

He is "curious about his fellow creatures", as I consider myself to be. Maybe this is why he started a conversation with a perfect stranger: To learn something. But instead of learning from him I brushed him off. I immediately judged him. When I discovered what this man had accomplished, I felt such shame for how I had treated him. Not just because he is a great thinker and I could learn from him, but because it demonstrated an enormous flaw in my own character. I acted as if I was somehow better than this man, that I had more important things to do with my time than listen to his chatter. I would be lucky to have a conversation with someone like him, and who knows how long I'll have to wait before meeting someone as brilliant ever again. I would be lucky to accomplish half of what he has in his life.

It's a cliche, but my lesson of the day: Never judge a book by it's cover.

Toronto's Heirarchy

There's a drastic and visible social order in Toronto. From the Louis Vuitton toting, Gucci sunglasses wearing fashionistas to the homeless. Wondering shoeless and tired-eyed, they tend to beg in the same place everyday.

The one by the Dominion seems happy, he's always smiling and offering assistance to people who struggle with their bags. He has a dog who seems tired but content. Not well-fed, but fed enough. It's truly surprising to me that someone in the most adverse of circumstances can always be so friendly and outgoing. He almost seems happier than me on a good day.

Another has a place outside a small grocers on Carlton. He sits on a milk crate with his empty Tim Horton's cup resting on the ground in front of him, never making eye-contact with the people walking past. He just sits quietly hoping for some extra change. He takes better care of himself of then some of the other homeless men I've seen. I get the feeling that the owners of the store let him sleep there and shower every once in awhile. Maybe he gives them some of the money from his coffee cup in exchange. I've seen him walking around elsewhere as well, I suppose he has friends panhandling in other areas of the city. More of a social network than most.

The tall man with the grocery cart who wanders Ryerson park scares me a little bit. He walks back and forth all day asking people for the time. Maybe it's his way of maintaining social contact. Maybe it's his own sociological experiment to see how many people simply ignore the homeless and walk on by. Maybe he's one of the many homeless in the city with mental illness, unable to get help and better his situation.

I often think what it would be like if I was in the position of one of these people and how difficult it would be. Not just because of the dangers of living on the street, or the poor diet, or the lack of cleanliness, or the dangers to your health, but because of the isolation. People ignore you and literally walk over you. It would get so lonely to never have anyone to talk to. The stigma of being on the street would be overwhelming. Of knowing you're on the "bottom rung" and that most people look down on you. Your self-esteem would plummet and your hopelessness would grow everyday. It is amazing how resilient people can be, and how positive their thinking must be to get through the day. It really makes you think, how lucky we all are to have a roof over our heads and a warm bed at night.

Not even in the evening, 'cause I've been drinking.

I tend to get restless staying in one place for too long, so it helps to have several different places I can move between when I need a change of scenery and some fresh faces.

Seventeen hours of driving in three days.

Just when you think you're comfortable and understand this whole life thing, after forty-some-odd years it throws you a curve ball. We never saw this one coming.

Stop coming to me if you can't. It's never safe for us. When will we get the time to be...

Your Tongue is Sharp, but I Miss the Taste of It

It's been a strange few days.

1) I spent the last three days in isolation at my cottage. Not a soul was near. All the windows in the house are facing out to the beach and I trotted around naked the whole time, no need for clothes. There was no one to see me. I gained a new appreciation for being nude.

2) A good friend of mine got pregnant. She's close in age to me, not married but has been with her boyfriend for years and years. They just bought a house together, and I suppose in their world it's exciting and it makes sense, but it's strange. When things like that happen in other people's lives, it makes me feel so young and immature. I cannot relate to wanting to have a baby. It's such an immense responsibility to take on, and I suppose I'm still at a place in my life where I don't see the allure of being a mommy. I'm still too selfish.

3) It's been a rat race searching for a job. I've officially been unemployed for almost two months. I'm waiting on one woman to contact me for a dance teaching position at a girls camp, which would be perfect for me, but we've been playing the most elaborate game of phone tag ever. It's been about two weeks, and we haven't actually spoken to each other directly, only voicemail. Please cross your fingers for me people, these are desperate times.

4) I've decided I have a very confusing relationship with my body. About half the time I love it and believe I am super sexy, but the rest of time I see flaws with every bit of it and try to cover up. I flip-flop every day between love and disdain. Do you think there is any woman out there who consistently loves herself?

Love is sometimes disarranged in the haze.

Chinese Food

Congratulations to my cousins band who played NXNE and were amazing!

I was so proud of him in the parental kind of way that makes you wanna squeeze cheeks and say things like, "your mom would be so proud of you right now!" I was also getting really excited that there's a potential celebrity in the family that I can brag about.

I've been discovering a new phenomenon lately. When girls go out together, they dress alike. I don't know why I've never noticed this before, it's quite obvious. I'm going to try and document this with a collection of secret photos, taken illegally and without consent.

Notice: Jeans, plaid shirts, large hand bags over the left shoulder, ponytails, no earrings, and though their shoes were not in the picture, I assure you they were both wearing black runners.

More installments to follow.

I'm finally happy right now. Right now, where I am.

I haven't written in almost a week because I've been too busy becoming an alcoholic.

Apparently bonding with my roommates means we must drink copious amounts of booze and fall down.

The heat has created an extra layer of greasy, dirt all over my body. I can wash it off, but 5 minutes later it's back.

My cousins band is on the schedule for NXNE. I'm totally gonna use my celeb connection to get backstage/free stuff/popularity.

Where I End and You Begin

I almost went Raymi on your asses for this post. I may still soon, but I'm not quite ready to take my top off for the Internet. Also, I don't think my baby bro and dad would appreciate seeing my boobies.

I know you're all probably bored with my dream commentary, but I had the most frightening dream last night. There were ghosts in my room and one possessed me. A woman with curly, blond hair. She was in my body for a few seconds until I managed to focus really hard and force her out of me. Why do I keep torturing myself in my sleep? I'm not that tortured during the day, I can't figure out why I am so fucked up during the night.

Ghosts: In general, ghosts symbolizes aspects of yourself that you fear. This may involve a painful memory, guilt, or some repressed thoughts. Alternatively, ghosts are representative of something that is no longer obtainable or within reach. It indicates a feeling of disconnection from life and society.

Possessed: To dream that you are possessed, represents your state of helplessness and not being in control of things.

Maybe I should stop analyzing my dreams, or I'll start to think I actually am as messed up as they keep telling me.

Fun With YouTube

My new favourite video from my new favourite album. Am I predictable?

She just wanted to join the fun!

"Daddddyyyy! It's the wrong colour!!"

I wonder what inspired Alanis to cover this song?

Dying to see this movie. It's about time something like this came around.

"I'll take Famous Titties for 400!"

Who's the choreographer for this video? Genius!

God Warrior? More like crazy devil woman who embodies everything that is wrong with America.

I can't stop watching the blinking!

I hope no one was in there.

"Maybe it's 'cause of the way that I walk, that makes them think that I like... boys."

The only cereal that understands you.

Phony photo booth skit.

Holy shit! I love this show so much!

My Arranged Indian Marriage in Hell

It's been awhile since I've had a dream that I remember when I wake up. I know I have them every night, but I think lately they've all been boring dreams that I'm too lazy to remember in the morning. But last night I had a series of crazy dreams, about four in a row, and one specifically that I thought was fucked up enough to share with the Internet.

I was in hell. How crazy is it that in my own dream, I die and go to hell? Anyways, hell wasn't all fire and pitchforks, it was your own worst nightmare. Mine was being in an arranged marriage to a disgusting old man who didn't love me. It was as if I was being sold into sexual slavery. I met him on the day of our wedding and I could tell it was a purely business transaction and that he wasn't too impressed at the look of me. Weirdly, it was an Indian wedding, my fiancee was Indian, and I remember looking at myself in the mirror and I had brown skin. Then, somehow in the nick of time, someone rescued me from my hell. This mystery person kidnapped me and drove me away in an old van, away from my wedding and into a kind of hell-limbo. We were on the verge of hell and earth just driving, driving, driving and getting nowhere. The evilest of the evil were chasing us, and everyone else in hell knew we were missing and were looking for us too, so we had to keep pulling our van into caves along the road to hide. The scariest thing was that the people chasing us always knew where we were, but they could never quite catch us, so we just kept running and hiding.

Hell: To dream of hell, denotes that you may be suffering from a seemingly inescapable situation. You may have placed your decision or course of action into someone else's hands. Alternatively, you may be possessing many inner fears and repressed guilty feelings. It is time to quit punishing yourself and take it easy for awhile.

Repressed guilty feelings? Suffering? Ouch, guys gimme a break.

Running: To dream that you are running away from someone, indicates an issue that you are trying to avoid. You are not taking or accepting responsibility for your actions. In particular, if you are running from an attacker or any danger, then it suggests that you are not facing and confronting your fears. To dream that you are running with others, signifies festive and prosperous times.

Doesn't that seem a bit contradictory? I'm not facing my fears but I am having festive and prosperous times?

Hiding: To dream that you are hiding, suggests that you are keeping some secret or withholding some information. You may not be facing up to a situation or not want to deal with an issue. However, you may be getting ready to reveal and confess before somebody finds out. To dream that you or somebody else is hiding, indicates a need for security and protection.

OK, this has some merit. No, I'm not telling what my secret is.

It's Such an Ugly World for Something so Beautiful

1) You'll all be happy to hear that I am settled and happy and exploding with joy at my new place in Toronto. My room is all set up, everyone has been so nice and I already feel comfortable with the novelty of everything. I'm gonna like it here.

2) I spotted my blog idol Raymi at the Kooks concert last night! And I was definitely too chicken shit to go say hi and that I read her blog everyday and that I think she's so cool. She was the first person I saw when I got there, what's wrong with me? Hopefully I'll get my picture with her before I leave the city because that would highlight my entire stay in Toronto.

3) The Kooks were amazing, but I didn't know they were twelve years old. They looked like little babies on stage. Drunk, stoned babies in tight pants. Then we tried to sneak backstage afterwards and we got pretty far. We saw the bassist run past us without his shirt on before we were forcibly removed from the premises.

4) I'm not used to having funds literally siphoned out of my bank account. I've been in Toronto for two and a half days now and I cannot believe how poor I am. Living five minutes from the Eaton Centre is responsible for this.

5) Buy the new Feist, Peter Bjorn and John and Kings of Leon albums and then thank me later.

Just Fine

I am at my parents house, the entire contents of my life sitting in my car, and I find myself unable to grasp exactly my feelings on what is happening. In between houses and without a job, my life is at a bit of a stand-still. Not only that, but the future is still blurry and now the future is only a few days away. I've always been relaxed when it comes to planning. Most people I know have their whole lives planned out; travel, jobs, marriage, etc. Everything laid out on a clear timeline of when and where. I have always been one to roll with the punches. To be OK not knowing exactly what's going to happen tomorrow, and to follow the road where ever it happens to lead.

Cliches aside, I really wish I knew what was going to happen next. I wish I had planned a bit better and I wish I had considered all my options before impulsively choosing whichever one seemed the most exciting to me at the time. I know everything will be fine, I don't need to be reassured of that. But knowing everything will be fine is different from not knowing what fine is.

This Blog is Dedicated to Miriam and my Future Husband, Who She met and Thus I am Jealous

This is the best thing to ever happen to me, and it didn't even happen to me.





So, just a few days after I write a whole blog dedicated to my future husband, Mr. John Mayer, my good friend Miriam meets him. Is this fate? Does this mean we are meant to be together? I think we all know the answer to that question. Not only did she meet him, but it is a damn funny story. Here it is in her own words.



~ Miriam ~ *gravity*says:
the concert alone was euphoric - but that was just the icing on the cake!!


- miss.emily says:
how on EARTH did you manage to meet him?


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
well it was pretty funny because I just had this feeling that we were going to... so I brought a sharpy and my CD with me just in case!! (also I had a feeling because Katie is THE luckiest person I have ever met.. and crazy good things happen around her.. and that was pretty much the craziest and the best thing that could happen period in the universe)


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
(except him asking to marry me. obv.)



Edit: No, he is going to ask me to marry him. Just to clear that up.


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
anyway after the concert she and I really want to go find the tour bus, but everyone was like 'no.. that's not going to happen.. he won't sign stuff, he's too famous..' etc, so we all get in the car


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
then we are having a heated discussion about him and Jessica Simpson - and my friend driving hits the car ahead of us!! she thought he had started moving, and he hadn't, so we nudged him. anyway freaking out but there was no damage so it was OK


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
anyway because of that we wanted to avoid this dude and not drive behind him anymore so while we are recovering from being freaked out we end up in random London and have to loop back towards downtown


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
as we drive past the Labatt Centre once again, we happen to go on the side where the parking lot is.. and out of SHEER coincidence, there is the tour bus, and there are barriers, and a little crowd of people!!!!!!!!!!


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
It Was Him.


~ Miriam ~ *gravity* says:
we pulled into this random spot and we all jetted out of the car!!!! as if we were in a marathon!! he was just working his way down the barrier signing everything and Em he was SO close.

The moral of this story is that I should always go to concerts with Miriam and Katie and that the universe is desperately trying to bring me and my future husband together by having him meet my friends first so we can have a conversational ice-breaker when we finally go on our first date of a life-time of dates.

It's Tuna.

This picture was posted on my future husband's blog with the caption "the most you're gonna get..."

For the slow kids in the back, this is documented evidence that the future father of my children, John Mayer, is walking around outside in Australia with Jessica Simpson, a.k.a. blonde sell-out who thinks buffalo have wings. Umm, hello? John is way too smart for her, plus he's already practically betrothed to yours truly. I know all kinds of facts about Buffalo and Chicken of the Sea and I'm way prettier than her. This is so silly, lets just see if I can fix this...

Ok, this is way more realistic.

You're welcome.

I am not yet jaded. I know this because people still have the ability to surprise me, and I still have the ability to surprise myself.

Cookie

1) So I'm writing a long blog and it's late at night so guess what that means? I'll give you two guesses. Yes, you're right I have an exam tomorrow which means I must do everything but study. So far today I've gone to the gym, gone to Shoppers, talked about having an exam, watched Scrubs and written here. I've done a total of two hours of studying since I've been awake. Enjoy the fruits of my procrastination.

2) Remember how a million years ago I was trying to come up with my top five bands of all time and only could think of four? The fifth spot has been appointed to Metric, yayyyy! Let's have a party where we all talk about our top five, and I'll be popular because I already know mine and don't have to stand there going, "Umm, ahhh, I don't know!" They will probably change eventually, but for now I have some piece of mind. So here are, officially, Emily's Top Five Bands of All Time, aka The World's Top Five Bands because we all know I have better taste in music than the world. Radiohead, Muse, Phoenix, Led Zepplin and Metric.

3) My thoughts before I leave for the gym: "Man, I look good in my tight little workout pants!" My thoughts while at the gym: "I'm fat, I'm fat, I'm fat..." My thoughts after the gym: "I'm still fat, the gym did nothing! I want a cookie."

4) I am an actual chocoholic. People use that word lightly, but really for me it's a drug. I crave it at all points of the day, I think about where I can get it and I get real withdrawal symptoms. I've known that I was a chocoholic for awhile, I went off it for a year and a bit in High School because it started to get out of control, but then one little brownie and I fell back into being a crazy addict. It takes me about three days of not having chocolate to not get cravings anymore. But then, like I said, one little chip and I'm a crazy person again. I tried to not eat chocolate today, but I caved. I want a cookie.

5) I was thinking about my Kindergarten report card the other day, and my teacher wrote that I didn't play with the other children and I was a loner (those weren't her exact words, I hope.) Anyways, I remember Kindergarten and my favourite thing to do was walk around and watch the other kids play. I watched them try to put puzzles together, I saw how the boys always played blocks and the girls always played house. I just realized something: I was a facking psychologist at the age of five! It wasn't that I had no friends or that I didn't know how to play, I just enjoyed watching the social behaviours of my friends. Still, I love people watching, sometimes at the bar I'll stand and just watch the way people interact. I was born to be a psychologist, I tell you. Five years old and observing the play behaviours of my peers, I'm a frigging genius.

6) I still want a cookie.

Fake Mink Pubes

.

Dear Fake Mink Blanket;

Your hairs look like long black pubes, which is really embarrassing when I have guests over and they see these pube-looking hairs all over my bed and floor. I don't want them to get the wrong idea so please stop shedding. Thanks.

__________

.

I like the way my eyeball looks in this picture. My eyes were blue until I was a year old, then they started to turn green but you can still see blueishness around the outside, which I like. I hate when people say I have brown eyes, they're not brown dammit! No offense to brown-eyed people but I'd rather not be lumped into the majority when I have very interesting not-brown eyes. Look closely, they are green on the inside and blue on the outside.

__________

.

Is it weird if you have a sex dream but you're not the one having sex, you're actually watching your two friends do it in your own bed while you're trying to talk to them but they're obviously not listening cause they're going at it?

__________

22 Human Years = 55 Dancer Years

I'm choreographing a solo for myself to be performed in less than a month. It'll probably be the last dance performance of my life, which is a bit discerning. It's a jazz solo to Little Wing by Jimi Hendrix and it's working out OK so far, except for the fact that I haven't taken class in, oh I don't know, about three years. I'm old now in dancer years so things take a bit more effort. And I'm performing in front of all my students and their parents which is also very discerning. They expect me to pull out something amazing because I'm supposed to be an expert at what I do. I'm a good teacher, but my body does not do the things a dancers body should be able to do any more. Every time I jump or turn or bend I need to do an "UGH!" to help me through it. Ugh, God help me.

I had the longest dream last night about eating a hard boiled egg. It was the whole process too, not just eating it. There were no eggs in the fridge, so I had a discussion with my roomies about not eating my food. Then I drove to the grocery store and had to sift through cartons and cartons of eggs that were broken and shattered in order to find one with nice eggs in it. Then when I went to pay I had no money left so I had to borrow five bucks from the old lady behind me. When I got home, all the pots were dirty, so I washed one and sat watching while the water boiled. I waited and waited and finally the egg was ready. When I opened it to eat it, it was black and rotten and disgusting but I waited so long for it I just ate it anyways.

Eggs: To see or eat eggs in your dream, symbolizes fertility, birth and your creative potential. It indicates that something new is about to happen. To see cracked or broken eggs in your dream, denotes that you will suffer from many disappointments and misfortunes. It is indicative of a fragile state in your life and feelings of vulnerability. Alternatively, you may be breaking out of your shell and being comfortable with who you are.

So I'll suffer many disappointments and misfortunes and then get pregnant?!?! I need to stop interpreting my dreams or I'll start actually believing this stupid crap. Now I've got to go... take my pill. And buy some more condoms. Bye.

I'm Too Hot, That's Why I'm Still Single

I've been the most skeptical about relationships and love and stuff lately and here's what people have been telling me is the problem:

Person #1: "You're too beautiful, unique, confident and smart so guys get intimidated by you. You just haven't met someone that can handle your greatness yet."

Person #2: "We both know there are no guys worth dating at Laurier. Just wait until you leave, guys will be tripping themselves just to get a date with you."

Person #3: "You're too picky. Just keep your options open and things will happen."

Person #4: "Guys suck. Just become a lesbian and your love life will totally change."

Person #5: "You're just not willing to settle with something mediocre. You know what you want and what's going to make you happy and don't want to waste your time dating some immature frat boy who doesn't know where your clit is."

Too bad I don't think any of those is the one. I think it's a combination of lack of opportunity and my own fear and inability to act coherent around anyone I actually like. I clam up and answer questions with either nervous laughter or one word answers in a high-pitched, squirrel-like voice, or some combination of both. Even I don't want to hang out with myself when I'm around guys I like.

In other news, each day that goes by gets me closer and closer to leaving this hell hole. But I keep having anxiety dreams. The worst one yet happened a few days ago when I dreamt that my mom killed herself and I woke up with my cheeks wet and sobbing. I immediately called her and she laughed at the thought, telling me she'd never ever leave me. Then I yelled at her for not taking me seriously. Then I called her back and apologized for being a bitch.

Honestly, I don't give a shit. I just act like I do sometimes to make my life seem more interesting.

Umm, I'll Pass.

Today sucked. It was so boring. Until the end, that part was fun. Here was my day:

12am-10am: Sleep.
10am-1pm: Think about going to class, but don't. Watch two episodes of The Office.
1pm-3pm: Nap.
3pm-4:30pm: Think about going to the gym. Drive by the gym and notice there is no parking so go buy groceries instead.
4:30pm-6:30pm: Make and eat Pad Thai.
6:30pm-7:30pm: Think about taking another nap.
7:30pm-8pm: Get ice cream with Amber.
8pm-9pm: Watch Lost.
9pm-10pm: Shower and make self look pretty.
10pm-2am: Bar.

We went to the UW Bomber, which was nice because there were no Laurier cocks there. And by cocks, I mean dicks. Penises. Walking around penises of men. Anyways, UW men are so much more respectful and nice and they want to talk to you before attempting to remove your pants. It's refreshing. So then I'm all happy from being flirted with, real flirting not "Hey, we're both drunk. Let's make some bad choices and then I'll never call you after" and I come home to this message:

CV-says:
ok

CV-says:
come over and give me a bj

CV- says:
please

CV-says:
hey babe

And who is this from? Oh ya, a drunken Laurier walking penis. No wonder they call this town the Loo.

Three Question Marks

I love Merkley???'s work so much, I would pay him whatever he charges PLUS pay for my own flight to San Fransisco where he lives just to take my clothes off so he can take nudey pics of me.

What I love about his photos is that these girls are not models. They have real bodies, unique faces, their own style (sometimes tattoos and piercings) and actual, home-grown boobies. No silicon here, people.

Also what I love is that the settings these girls are in are not typical. I mean, they're more real. There are stains on the mattresses, the floors are dirty and the props are things you can probably find in your own home. There's something purposely mundane about the props and locations he uses. I love it.

I hear he lets the girls wear their own favourite pair of shoes. That could just be a rumour though.

Not overthinking, just thinking. Being. Wondering questions with no answers makes my entire body hurt. I'm tired and my eyes have dark circles almost as black as the ones I wish were around my heart, but no. Nothing to burden me but thinking. And that's more tiring than anything.
__________

Looking in the wrong places. With eyes closed.
After years of waiting, still more to pass by.
__________

Why do I put you on a pedestal? Because there is no one else. You are a joke. We were a joke. We were nothing and it drives me insane that you are my comparison. You're on the pedestal rather than someone worth being my example. But alas, it is you. My bullshit exemplification.
__________

It's Anxiety... I Think.

My dreams have been getting more and more strange, and probably because of anxiety. I say probably because I never seem to know I'm anxious when I'm anxious. Or when I'm stressed or scared. I am, surprisingly, not very good at reading myself and it usually isn't until after I've recovered from the anxiety or stress or fear that I can recognize why I was out of sorts at the time. I know something's not right, and other people know but for some reason I cannot concretely identify my own emotions at the time they are occurring. So because of this unsettled feeling in my gut and because I'm grumpy and am going through a transitional time in my life, I have deduced that I'm anxious.

The increasing strangeness of my dreams is most likely a product this. I never have a truly sound sleep these days and I always wake up feeling strange. Like I didn't actually get any rest, I just entered an even more exhausting state of consciousness that is my life turned upside-down. Last night I dreamt that I was sleeping, and I woke up and opened my sleepy eyes to see someone lying next to me watching me. I could see him, a man, foggy because I was deeply asleep, and I remember thinking that he must have been really tired to have crawled into bed with me in the middle of the night. I was disturbed, but not quite enough to fully wake up and kick him in the balls which is what I would do if a real stranger crawled into bed with me. So I just went back to sleep. I awoke wondering if it had actually happened.

Why the anxiety? I'll soon be graduating. I'm moving to Toronto in less than two months, a city I've never lived in, and I don't yet have a place or a job. I'm a small town girl at heart and Toronto is a big place. It's a whole different world and I'm throwing myself into it without knowing what I'm going to do once I'm there. Of course this is my choice and it will all turn out ok, blah blah blah, but I can't help but feel like a little lamb unknowingly walking herself to the slaughterhouse.

I'm excited to be done with academia, with grades and homework and textbooks. There's another chapter on the way that will be amazing and different from anything I've ever experienced before. I've been saying to everyone how I can't wait for the next chapter to start, but I suppose there's another part that will miss this. There's nothing in the world like university life. And I know I've already grown out of it, and I am ready to leave, but it's still a sad thing knowing it's over. Almost.

You know, the longer I'm by myself the more frightened I become at the thought of being with someone else.

I don't want to be scared anymore.

This Post is a Self-Indulgent Piece of Crap

I went to Cuba and you didn't. I pity you right now, I really do. Poor you. Highlights of the trip include:

- Rum Punch, also lovingly called "Ron Ponche." Don't know why.

- Salsa dancing until I could no longer feel my feet. Yes that's me, I have long hair.



- Sun. Which resulted in a tan.

- Sand, which was found in places I didn't even know I had places.

- No sex. Which means no Cuban babies.

- Lots of ruckus and destruction of private property and disturbing the lovely elderly couples that go to Cuba for a nice quiet vacation.

- Feeling like an adult surrounded by six-year-old who've had chocolate for breakfast and lunch and caffeine for dinner.

- Catamaran adventures and hermit crabs.

- Meeting several fling-worthy boys who coincidentally all had girlfriends. They should wear signs or something.

-Pina Coladas at 9:30am.

- Jellyfish near-death experiences.

- Learning the two most important phrases in Spanish, "Una vino blanco, por favor" and "Fiki fiki a la playa."

- Unpasteurized cheese.

- Developing a taste for seafood. Seafood that still has a face after its been cooked.

- Non-snow.

- Fourteen hour flight delays.

- Paraíso.

Do You Like Pina Coladas?

Dear Everyone;

In about 50 hours I will be here,














And here,














Also here,














And sitting by this pool. But I hope that annoying, lovey-dovey couple in the picture isn't there when we go, 'cause I might barf on them.














Feel free to be jealous, I know you are. Moving on.

I'm pretty proud of myself because I've been cooking a lot recently. This is a new development because since I moved to school almost four years ago I've frequented the local Subway, Pita Pit and Quick Sandwich for most of my meals. And by most I mean all. I'd make the occasional stir fry on the days when I was too lazy to leave the house, but nothing extravagant. Today, I made Thai Red Curry with chicken, zucchini, green beans, onion and carrots. Yesterday I made artichoke dip with vegetables and whole grain pitas. I've also recently made bruchetta with feta cheese on focacchia bread. So delicious, but not so much for my ass. Which will be seen very scantly clad in 2 days. I didn't think this through.

But seriously though, my ass will be just fine it's my nether-regions I'm still worried about. Countdown to hair being ripped out of my special place: 2 days.

I had another dream last night that warrants a review. I had a cat, who I loved and was my best friend. When I had an ex over for dinner, the cat repeatedly clawed at his face and tried to get away from him. He tried to make friends, but kitty wouldn't have it. There are a couple interesting things here. One is that I hate cats, so the fact that I dreamt that I owned one and loved him is a bit strange. Also, that my cat hated my ex when actually in real life I have a decent relationship with him.

To see a cat in your dream, signifies much misfortune, treachery, and bad luck. However, for the cat lover, cats signifies an independent spirit, feminine sexuality, creativity, and power. If the cat is aggressive, then it suggests that you are having problems with the feminine aspect of yourself.

To dream that a cat is biting you, symbolizes the devouring female. Perhaps you are taking and taking without giving. You may be expressing some fear or frustration especially when something is not going as planned.

Oooh La

1) I'm supposed to find some behaviour I do that I don't like and change it for the final assignment of my Behaviour Modification class. The problem is that I'm perfect, so I can't think of anything. I should probably tell my Prof and be exempted from this assignment.

2) Help me make this very difficult decision. Choice A: Go to Coachella after the finals of my last term of University undergrad life ever and spend a disgusting amount of money travelling across two countries to hear a great line-up of bands (would be better if Phoenix was there this year, I'm just saying.) Or Choice B: Go to work that weekend, which I was expecting to attend since September, and make money not disappointing all my students and not having to lie to my boss. I will consider any and all advice.

3) I'm getting a Brazilian. Yeah, you heard me right, I'm going to be spread eagle in front of a perfect stranger while she rips all the hairs out of my special place using hot wax. I'm totally insane, but also it's a prep for my trip to Cuba in eleven days. Wilfrid Laurier University Grad trip. You never know what could happen when you're drunk for eight days straight. My cha-cha could end up on the grad video and I want it to look goooood.

4) Just so you all know, my mom is better than yours. It's a scientific fact and we all know you can't argue science.

Hope boils over and keeps me warm in the winter, while everyone around me turns blue.

Justin Timberlake and the Black Cake

Welcome to another installment of "Miss.Emily has messed dreams which is probably a sign that she is crazy but she's been told that before so whatever." This one was a nap dream from earlier today.

It was the weekend of my wedding. I guess it was around April, 2008 cause I knew I was 23 and I had known my fiancee since October of 2007. I was all busy planning and rushing around trying to do wedding type stuff, wrapping up loose ends and all the crap that I'm sure goes into such an event. Anyways, the air in my dream was kinda dark through the whole thing. Like there was a black fog over everything all the time. And all this supernatural stuff kept happening that didn't really phase me at the time of the dream because I was so preoccupied with the wedding. I don't remember a lot of specifics but I do remember my cake turning black. Which is a pretty bad omen but it didn't affect me at all during the dream. So I had this bad feeling far, far at the back of my mind through the whole dream too, like I knew I didn't want to marry this guy. His initials were JT (and it's possible this is because I posted about Justin Timberlake yesterday.) And he was an amazing guy, handsome, nice, really intelligent and my parents loved him and I really think I loved him too. But there was this deep feeling of being strangled and confined by the thought of marrying him. I was determined to do it consciously, but unconsciously there was this intense fear that I was making a big mistake. No one else said anything to me except Kelly who somehow sensed that I shouldn't marry JT. She said, "You know you're allowed to say 'no' at the alter. You've only known this guy for 7 months, you don't have to do this." And although I half agreed with her, I almost felt obligated to marry him anyways because I loved him.

Now here comes the part where I'm sensible and don't search for meaning in this...

1) To see a marriage in your dream, signifies commitment, harmony or transitional period. You are undergoing an important developmental phase in your life. The dream may also represent the unification of formerly separate or opposite aspects of yourself. In particular, it is the union of masculine or feminine aspects of yourself. Consider the qualities and characteristics of the person that you are marrying. These are the qualities that you need to look at incorporating within yourself.

2) To see a wedding in your dream, symbolizes a new beginning or transition in your current life. Dreams involving weddings are often negative and highlight some anxiety or fear. It often refers to feelings of bitterness, sorrow, or death. Alternatively, wedding dreams reflect your issues about commitment and independence. To dream that you are planning your own wedding to someone you never met, is a metaphor symbolizing the union of your masculine and feminine side. It represents a transitional phase where you are seeking some sort of balance between your aggressive side and emotional side.

That anxiety stuff rings a bell. And a new transition. I'm trying to plan for graduate school at this point so I guess that's all that "new beginning" and "transition" stuff. This is a sign for sure. Or maybe it means that Justin Timberlake from the Bookstore is my future husband.

Blonde on the Inside

So one day I went to the Bookstore to buy these three books I needed for a class. Looked and looked over the shelves I did, and nope couldn't find them. So I went to ask for help from the two dreamboats that worked there, of course knowing that in the two minutes they would spend helping me they would learn how witty, charming, beautiful and intelligent I am and would want to marry me. So I'm waiting for help, it's very busy. I wait for a good five minutes and ask the Justin Timberlake clone about these books and he doesn't know so he asks the Zach Braff clone. Zach asks me to follow him, and of course I'm thinking "Wow, he wants to spend some one-on-one time with me because he wants to have beautiful babies together." And then in one sweeping motion he grabs all three books right off the shelf from where I was looking and hands them to me, not saying a word. I am thinking in my head, "WHAAAA jeez, I'm such a stupid bimbo. There's no way I'm buying these books right now, maybe I can slip away quietly and the hotties will forget that this ever happened." So I inconspicuously try to slither out the door when I hear the following conversation...

Justin Timberlake: "So, did you find those books?"
Zach Braff: "Yeah they were on the shelf dude."
Justin Timberlake: "Yeah right!" (Laughter of disbelief and mockery ensues.)

Thus, I am stupid. The end.

I'm wondering if I'll regret wishing these next four months away.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I'm trying so hard to get something I may not really want.

Keeping asking me, I kinda like it. But I'll never say yes.

This is how I want to be, not how I am. I'm trying hard to change my thoughts on purpose.

Make the most of it. I don't know if I can.

This is so hard. I'm only really strong on the outside.

Vegetables are good for you

1) Question: What do you do when one of your favourite aspects of your own personality is one that annoys the hell out of a good friend? Just ignore them or change or what? I guess I'm just pretty arrogant and think there's nothing wrong with me so when someone says there is I'm pretty surprised. "Wait... I'm not perfect?"

2) I've started drinking V-8 because vegetables are good for you, d'uh. It tastes like tomatoes mixed with gasoline and some vomit too because of those little chunks. I just chug it down, like one would chug a tomato/gas/vomit combo. I've also contemplated becoming a full-fledged vegetarian lately because I already don't eat any red meat or fish and I eat chicken maybe once a day. Hello health kick, how are you doing? When my ass turns into the most beautiful thing I've ever seen I'll take a picture of it for you.

3) I'm going to add a post-script new years resolution to my list, and that is to go to class. I've skipped three classes already in the first three days of school, go me.

4) So I don't know the etiquette about cell phones yet, I'm a new user. What happens when you get your phonebook full of numbers that you add while at the bar? You know, those people you insist you'll call again but never do? Can you delete them? Or is it courtesy to keep them for awhile until you go through them and say, who the hell are "Phil" and "Jason" and forget when you even added the number and then delete them? Or do you keep them just so people will think you're a huge pimp because you get a lot of numbers? Or do you wait a couple months and then call Phil or Jason and say, "Oh, I had your number in my phone and was wondering who you are?" and then make a date with them because of this funny story you have together and you can tell people that's how you met?

5) I went shopping today and spent $257 that I don't have. Look at the jacket I bought, not at my face in the picture. I look like I'm about to commit murder to babies. This jacket is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, not including non-material stuff like life and sex. I always secretly make fun of people who take pictures of their reflections in mirrors, which is why I hid the camera at the side and took off the flash so no one would know, except now you know. I give you permission to mock me. But not the jacket, I don't want it's feelings to be hurt.

I Resolve: The 2007 Edition

Last year I had a whole list of resolutions that I did or did not keep for a period of time. This year I have only two but they're big ones. Really big.

1) Go to the gym five times a week. This is the big one I had from last year which I actually kept until I got mono and couldn't walk for a month and I haven't been to the gym since. If you do the math I've been gymless for about seven months now. Eeek. Thus, I resolve to go to the gym five days a week starting yesterday.

2) To finish all my papers the day before so I can sleep. No more all nighters, no more half-assed papers because I avoid stress like the plague. "Dear Emily; The more you put things of the more stressed you will be and the more tired. Stop avoiding the inevitable!"

I can't fail now that my goals are documented on the Internet. People are watching me...