So I love Homecoming, love dances, love my english teacher, love my planner, love poetry, love Stephanie, love the Doctor, love driving, love orange nail polish, hate vegetables, hate missing people, hate not eating breakfast or lunch, yet can't seem to stop from doing it, and and and hate not posting on livejournal.
I have recently taken up talking to my alien space duck. He's a surprisingly bad listener, but I try to have patience with him--I'm not sure he even has ears.
I'm madly desperately in love with the Doctor and also Torchwood and Captain Jack. Oh! And I saw David Tennant on the Graham Norton show and laughed so hard my eyes watered. BBC is my new favorite channel. British accents make me go weak in the knees.
I started writing poetry again. Finally. And some of it doesn't even suck. So yay for me.
Also, I wrote my personal statement for college apps, and am going to post it below.
I love you all dearly, even if I'm shamefully sporadic in posting and replying to comments. I read them in my emails, but don't come back to this site to reply for...well, weeks. But that doesn't mean I don't care! Cause, you know, I do.
Em


Erm. This happens to be dedicated to Becca, Kevin, and everyone else in that fantastic family we call book club.

The brilliance of literature mesmerizes me. I read poems slowly, deliberately, unpeeling the meaning one layer after another. Words and phrases resound through my head: profound truths. Archetypal symbols carry the same acres of meaning in every culture and every mind. I love that poetry evokes emotions, telling the stories of people gone—horror, devotion, and wonder translated in tiny strokes of ink. To me, words are unifying, capturing moments of eternity and inscribing them in brief stanzas or epic novels. I love wandering through stories and finding echoes of myself in characters and expressions.
Six years ago, I discovered a small book club at the local library, and there, I found where I belonged. All my life, I’ve preferred anthologies to organized sports and have often related better to long dead poets than my classmates. In book club, though, I have the chance to indulge in my passion with others, fiercely arguing over novels by Douglas Adams, Kurt Vonnegut, and J.R.R. Tolkien. Besides our shared love of books, we can easily spend hours discussing Humphrey Bogart, fan fiction, or King Elvis, battling with balled up socks and falling in love with fictional characters. Our differences blend magnificently, creating a brilliant, messy collage of personalities.
Since the beginning, the book club community has grown from four members meeting monthly, to upwards of fifteen students and two librarians, meeting twice a month over two libraries. As it’s changed, I’ve changed with it, becoming a stronger, more confident member of this club, my school, and the community. Every day, I bring my intellect to CSF, my passion to theatre, and my dedication to Youth Taking On Tobacco, and every two weeks, I return to the study room in the library, with its still-warm cookies, laughing friends, and books scattered across the table.
The moon to my tides, the library has been a focal point in my life since childhood, from Laura Ingalls Wilder, to my fantasy phase in junior high, to the poetry of Pablo Neruda. As I mature, those quiet stacks continue to hold promise and mystery, guiding my quest for answers and universal truths.
The other day, someone asked me what I wanted to do at college. After a long moment of thought, I discovered my answer: I want to learn. I want to continue exploring the endless depths of poetry and literature, as well as physics, history, and politics. There’s so much to discover about this world, to see and do and feel. I want to join clubs and try sports and learn about myself. I want to know my professors by name and study Petrarch’s sonnets in Florence and drink coffee and watch people rush by. I want to belong to the library, the stage, the world. I want to live, and live magnificently.

Hey y'all
I'm hanging out at Ange's house before we go to the first school dance (ah, high school). Everyone's cooking dinner, and I'm here, being lazy, typing something for the first time in 7 weeks. Miss everyone.
School is...school. My classes are fine, except for my classmates (former friends in ALL my classes)--Oh, and Spanish, which sucks. My teacher is really scary.
Um. Hope everyone's happy, if slightly crippled.
Miss the Doctor. I wish he was coming on tonight.
Ooh Senior Sunrise was this morning. Up at 5am, at school by 6. Fun, right? Actually I was really excited about it, except it was so warm, everyone came wearing shorts. Not as moving as I thought it would be, but fun nonetheless.
Have a fab 3day weekend!!
Em

The Rules of Evidence

What you want to say most
is inadmissible.
Say it anyway.
Say it again.
What they tell you is irrelevant
can't be denied and will
eventually be heard.
Every question
is a leading question.
Ask it anyway, then expect
what you won't get.
There is no such thing
as the original
so you'll have to make do
with a reasonable facsimile.
The history of the world
is hearsay. Hear it.
The whole truth
is unspeakable
and nothing but the truth
is a lie.
I swear this.
My oath is a kiss.
I swear
by everything
incredible.

This is currently my most favorite poem in the whole world.

You know, its funny. I write journal entries in my head all day as I'm folding laundry and cleaning out closets, but as soon as I sit in front of my computer, its all gone. Anyways, I want to say hi to everyone, considering its been ages since I last posted. Unfortunately, not much has changed.
Nevertheless, it is summer, and that deserves some celebrating, despite its characteristic, pervasive boredom. With the extra time, I've been catching up on movies and my reading (and steadfastly ignoring my summer assignments). The Talisman, by Stephen King and Peter Shroud, is particularly good, and not explicitly horror, but more of a dark fantasy. I rather enjoyed it.
Additionally, I've recently resumed driving again, spending between 30 minutes and three hours a day behind the wheel. This time, its going to stick too. I scheduled my dmv test for July 19th, and the only reason its not sooner is because I'm leaving on vacation before the soonest available appointment. Wish me luck!!
I hope everyone is having a lovely summer, even those who are still working. In my opinion, the absolute best part of summer is when the night finally cools off, and that refreshing breeze blows through the open window, always surprising me with its forgiving touch.
Anyway, eat gelato and be happy.
Love, Em

So I have to do this english project on Pat Conroy's Beach Music, which is actually really, really good, if a little wordy, but Bookrags will give me access to their research if I post the link. So, here it is.
BookRags: Beach Music (novel) Summary

Anyway, I miss everyone. With Kevin out of commission for surgery, I never get to see my book club compatriots. *tear, sob, etc.*
Something must be done.
Em

So I am officially an oral surgery patient. Yesterday I had all four of my wisdom teeth removed- yikes- but it didn't turn out too bad. I still feel like someone kicked me in the jaw, but I've been taking valium every four hours so I'm feeling pretty good.
In other news, I went to see Pan's Labyrinth too. Last Friday, I went to Davis with Frodo and Tenzin and Janessa, and we had a great time. It was a lot more violent than I expected, but I covered my eyes for the really gory parts. Otherwise, it was surprisingly good.
In the spirit of poetry, I'm adding part of a poem by Andre Lorde, called "From The House Of Yemanja." Enjoy.

I am
The sun and the moon and forever hungry
The sharpened edge
Where day and night shall meet
And not be
One

Loves, Em

I just want to say hi.
So...
hi.
*grins and waves*

Meh.
Finals are next week and I spent this morning studying with Ange. I feel like I'm stuck in a homework-induced haze that absolutely won't go away, never mind the fact that I stopped doing homework hours ago. Instead, I've been browsing lj on my newly internet-equiped laptop (Thank you Dad!!!!!) and randomly bookmarking sites that look promising. Deathoffshore has the best poetry, if you get a chance to look at it.
And yet, I can't shake the feeling that something is...I don't know. Yucky. *Caving to the cliche* Wrong. Oh well. You get remarkably used to discomfort after a certain period of time.
Anyway. Good luck to everyone else. On finals.
Em

Hey strangers
I'm having a really good day, and don't know why. I did get to listen to Sinatra all first period (Mr. Morton has the coolest taste in music- besides goth club, of course) so that great. And I got my Psat scores back, yay me.
I don't know. Things are just good.
Actually, at lit mag on Wednesday, we were all talking about poetry, and how hard it is to write when you're in a good mood. Cause, like, most of what I write, at least, stems in some way from angst going on in my life. Mainly because its really hard to write a poem that's like: I'm in such a good mood/ La di da di da/ Lets go to candy mountain/ Bouncy bouncy bouncy. Which isn't really a poem at all. There's no conflict in happiness. Anyway, so Kevin gave me an assignment to write a poem about an angst situation but without using people or names or anything, so I'm kind of stuck on finding a good metaphor for what's bugging me lately...My point...
Oh, right. So that's why I haven't posted lately. I'm either too busy or too happy. However, I post this entry as an offering to the Cheese Lord. May his friend page be empty no longer.
Em