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

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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.

__________

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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.

__________

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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.