I post my facebook minifeed…
and it’s kind of fun. For me anyways
Summer’s been nothing. Today I sunbathed in a sports bra and jogshorts with Peter Hoeg’s “The Woman & The Ape.” Then I ate. Then I read the wonderful webcomic “Liliane, Bi-Dyke.” Then I went for a run. Then I made a stir fry with my dad. I am not going to an overnight tonight, because I don’t want to leave my blissful solitude any earlier than I have to. Gonna go study psychology, for college credit no less, down in Indiana. I’m a smart one. I’m a keeper. Lawl
I started writing a short story about a guy named Olaf who drops out of music school and becomes a bicycle thief. It’s supposed to be based on the story of the snow wife from Japanese folklore. Remember when you were a wee freshman in Creative Writing I at LCC with all the guys with the sleazy jobs and the professor told you to write a story based on a folktale? Well now you have an actual shot at it
When I grow up I will learn massage, French and illustration. That sounds like fun.
Here is my facebook minifeed:
Emma was appointed “creatrix” in the group _____lalala.
8:12pm
Emma wants numbers.
8:09pm
Emma posted a video.
8:56pm
Emma is watching lightning.
11:46pm
Emma has a new cell phone. It’s red and does fifty texts a month.
11:38pm
Emma plans to attend CONnect.
6:29pm
Emma wants to get a buzz cut again.
7:15pm
Emma joined the group Yes I go to Church, No I’m not Christian.
10:52am
Emma plans to attend George W. Bush’s Last Day as President.
11:09pm
Emma is home sweet home.
7:13pm
Emma went home and yelled at her mom.
5:39pm
Emma added new photos to i found some old pictures.
10:17pm
i found some old pictures - 9 Photos
Emma joined the group Narwhals Forever!
6:35pm
Emma cut and paste: www.lost.eu/7740b.
4:30pm
Emma joined the group I just lost “The Game”.
3:02pm
Emma is a rocket, rocketing to June.
10:12pm
Emma joined the group REMEMBERING THE 6,000,000 THAT WERE LOST WITH THE WIND.
7:34pm
Emma wrote on Shannon Snideman’s wall.
7:07pm
Shannon Snideman mentioned Emma in her note This I Believe.
5:40pm
Emma wrote on Chris Foster’s wall.
4:01pm
Emma joined the group for cambodian schools.
4:00pm
Brian Church mentioned Emma in their note Your pieces and mine 2.
7:32pm
Emma invented smea: soymilk + tea = smea = <3.
5:42pm
Emma wrote on Valerie Palkovic’s wall.
6:48pm
Emma wrote on Keara Campbell-Fox’s wall.
9:44pm
Amber W-D tagged Emma in 5 photos.
6:31pm
Yankee Springs ‘08 #2
Emma wrote on Keara Campbell-Fox’s wall.
4:43pm
Emma and Anna Zielinski are now friends.
4:32pm
Emma commented on Amber W-D’s photo.
3:05pm
you’re doing it wrong!!!Emma commented on Amber W-D’s photo.
3:04pm
ohhh noooooEmma commented on Amber W-D’s photo.
3:03pm
khakis just don’t go with shirtless. Emma wrote on Chris Foster’s wall.
3:01pm
Emma commented on Amber W-D’s photo.
2:56pm
i was like, “dad, you’re on facebook!” and he was like “what does that mean??!” Emma commented on Amber W-D’s photo.
2:53pm
ohh no, it’s doc!that was definitely an acid mop. believe it.
Emma commented on Amber W-D’s photo.
2:53pm
chris looks sooo interested, benno just looks chill… Emma commented on Amber W-D’s photo.
2:50pm
Theo: Don’t worry, we’ll find your binky. Emma and Justin Brereton are now friends.
7:14pm
Emma edited Quotes in her profile, and changed her profile picture.
6:57pm
Emma is sunburned on her face and left elbow.
6:56pm
Emma and Lori Coulson are now friends.
6:49pm
Sen Shaf mentioned Emma in their note HELLO!!! la la random stuff that you can do!!!
2:00am
Emma is going camping.
6:46am
Emma commented on Erin Lalinsky’s photo.
9:46pm
i actually just wrote that to set kelvin’s caption up for something ridiculous Emma i can haz prom dres?
8:09pm
Emma commented on Erin Lalinsky’s photo.
8:02pm
Me: I bet I can look fatter than anyone else hereChris: I think she’s winning. What do you think?
Ethan and Lori: We agreeKelvin: I’ve never SEEN ANYONE so fat!
Meredith Louise Melvin tagged Emma in a photo.
6:52pm
CONvey
Emma and Carolyn Zemanian are now friends.
4:43pm
Emma and Claire Spike are now friends.
9:06pm
Emma and Rita Mulford are now friends.
4:59pm
Emma commented on Seth Weber’s photo.
4:48pm
these are definitely the best pictures of you from the con, i must say Emma commented on Raija M’s photo.
9:49pm
peter = drag queen guru of punkthis picture proves it!!!
♥
Emma wrote on Chris Foster’s wall.
9:44pm
Emma and Keara Campbell-Fox are now friends.
8:46pm
Emma and Andrew Sadler are now friends.
5:37pm
Emma joined the group Facebook Unitarian Universalists.
5:02pm
Emma joined the group Church & Eglinton.
4:58pm
Emma wrote on Seth Weber’s wall.
4:58pm
Emma wrote on Meredith Louise Melvin’s wall.
8:59pm
Emma commented on Raija M’s photo.
7:27pm
i googled rico suave and i found gay pornchris?
Emma joined the group COEXIST.
7:16pm
Emma wrote on Griffin Johnson’s wall.
7:04pm
Emma wrote on Chris Foster’s wall.
6:50pm
Emma and Ray Whitaker are now friends.
6:47pm
Emma wrote on Chris Foster’s wall.
5:17pm
Emma wrote on Chris Foster’s wall.
5:16pm
Emma wrote on Shannon Snideman’s wall.
5:15pm
Emma wrote on Shannon Snideman’s wall.
5:07pm
Emma and Zack Tyson are now friends.
5:06pm
Emma and Stefanie Martin are now friends.
I am officially amused by my search engine terms
All Time
| Search | Views |
|---|---|
| myspace love life blogs | 2 |
| funny notes on life | 1 |
| christolatry | 1 |
| phyllis schlafly, queers | 1 |
| funny notes to leave your parents | 1 |
| herman hesse grindelwald | 1 |
Both times that I’ve
realized I love you it was raining.
I think it’s been easy for me to set things on a slow boil because when we’re together I can almost pretend, even while we’re talking, that we’re together - just because of how you interact with me. The ritual of our conversations is for me to say “I hate you,” then for you to say “No, you love me.” And then I don’t have to say it. I don’t want you to say, “See, that’s why we can’t ever date!” because I said it because we should.
Both of us are working our ways outwards from a center all the time, both of us have many objects of affection, many plans, many ideas and ways of thinking. Maybe we’re too amorphous for each other. Maybe that was the last time we’ll ever hang out like that. No one else makes me so comfortable, talking, touching, explaining myself, nobody - even just as a friend.
springtime is for lovers
Lately the air’s stuffed with flowery smells, music from inside people’s houses, children’s voices. It’s definitely kissing weather. The squirrels are multiplying too fast to keep their babies out of the road and the birds are multiplying too fast to keep their eggs in trees.
I’ve been reflecting on me being queer and all. It sounds ridiculous, and I know they always say “you can’t make a person gay,” that’s the party line - but I’m pretty sure Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus made me a dyke.
I had action figures for this:
(but it was the poster of the sailor starlights that made me queer/bi…)
LOOK AT THAT SHIT.
<3
Today I was walking
down the street on the other side of the block and noticed a cell phone lying on the ground. Not a flip phone, blue, wouldn’t turn on when I hit the little red power button.
A second later I heard a tiny voice. “Can I pet your dog?” This question came from a tiny bald head behind the black mesh of an open window. A little boy, six or seven years old, with a clean-shaven scalp, was peering out at me.
“Sure, you can pet my dog,” I answered. “But can you tell me if your parents are home?”
He seemed a little unsure, so I explained about the cell phone. “My dad’s not home,” he said mournfully. “But my mom is.”
“Well, can you get her for me?”
He did so, and as I approached their shady front step, I heard him yell “Mom, somebody wants you!”
There was a bit of a conversation for a few moments, then a tall, thin, tanly freckled woman with a complexly highlighted dirty-blonde ponytail appeared behind the screen door and said hello. “I found a cell phone in your yard,” I explained again, “don’t know if it’s yours or what, but,” and she opened the door and examined the phone. The little boy had apparated next to her.
“Oh,” she said, then “thanks,” and I said “no problem,” and both of us disappeared.
I was about half a house away when I heard the little boy’s voice again. “Stupid phone!” he was saying. “Stupid phone!” I looked back in time to see him toss the phone I’d just given his mother onto the grass.
“It won’t work anymore if you do that,” I told him over my shoulder. “It won’t be a nice phone.”
“Stupid phone!” he said. He was walking fast to catch up with me. “There’s someone tryin’ to get in touch with me but they can’t on that phone.”
The phone had been off the whole time. “Ugh,” I said sympathetically. “That is stupid.” I stopped walking and pulled my dog over to us. “Here, come pet the dog like you wanted to.”
He came and pet the dog, who wasn’t very interested, for awhile.
“So Dad and Ashley left,” he said. “Guess where they went.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Tell me.” In addition to the way he mangled words in his mouth childishly, he had a Southern accent.
“The mall,” he said anticlimactically. “They went to the mall and,” something I couldn’t understand, “and now nobody’s going to play with me.”
“Oh no!” I responded right away. “That’s too bad! Did you ask them to take you, and they said no?”
He muttered, let go of the dog, and sidled back towards the house a few steps. I took that as my cue to leave. When I got a house down, he yelled “Bye!” I turned and waved.
When I was at the corner, he yelled “Bye!” again. I waved again, then pretended not to hear him when he yelled, “I just found a really big stick in the garden!”
“herman hesse grindelwald”
How did the term “herman hesse grindelwald” refer anyone to this blog? I’m rather curious. As far as I know I have not until today used the terms in the same context, ever, and definitely not in this blog. Did Hesse write Grindelwald as a first attempt at a novel before he struck upon the idea of Siddhartha?
Well, mystery reader, if you ever come back, feast your eyes on this post, which bears “herman hesse grindelwald” as its sole topic.
lately
- I just went on one of the best field trips the high school I attend will ever unwittingly send me on.
- This weekend, I’m camping on the venerable grounds of Doc-land.
- The weekend after that I am going to prom at another school with a surprisingly handsome boy - handsome, but dweeb enough to suit me, so it’s great.
- Then I take finals and school’s absolutely, absolutely out.
My life is sort of incredible lately.
He said I love you, I want a hug from you so bad, and my face glowed and caterpillars crawled in my legs, and I don’t even know if that’s how he meant it. I don’t think he meant it that way, I don’t wish he meant it that way. But my cheeks were warm as pans, and I smiled. A confluence of events is making me feel this way.
I’m making a list of summer things - no specific order:
- crouching tiger hidden dragon; waking life; dharma river
- yukio mishima; bertrand russell; larry gonick
- cuddling (?)
- bicycling, jogging
- cyanotypes
- paint a narwhal
- write a novel
- make my life worthwhile
from my myspace blog
max 95 character title!
Current mood: 
lonely
Category: Life
“I see this cherry, I feel it, I taste it: and I am sure [that nothingness] cannot be seen, or felt, or tasted: [the cherry] is therefore real. Take away the sensations of softness, moisture, redness, tartness, and you take away the cherry. Since it is not a being distinct from sensations; a cherry, I say, is nothing but a congeries of sensible impressions, or ideas perceived by various senses: which ideas are united into one thing (or have one name given them) by the mind; because they are observed to attend each other. Thus, when the palate is affected with such a particular taste, the sight is affected with red color, the touch with roundness, softness, etc. Hence, when I see, feel, and taste… I am sure the cherry exists, or is real; its reality being in my opinion nothing abstracted from those sensations. But, if by the word cherry, you mean an unknown nature, distinct from all those sensible qualities, and by its existence something distinct from its being perceived; then, indeed, I own, neither you nor I, not anyone else, can be sure it exists.”
- Bishop Berkeley (1685-1753)
***
way old.
rant!
Category: Automotive
There was an article published in the Lansing State Journal a few days ago about an issue (or nonissue) much commented upon lately. It was entitled something along the lines of “Detail about sexuality just that – a detail!” and dealt with the headmaster of Hogwarts, who J.K. Rowling recently outed as gay. The author of the article was apparently under the impression that Rowling had just forgotten to mention Dumbledore was gay – that upon telling that famous fan asking if Dumbledore ever finds true love about the headmaster’s failed romance with Grindelwald, J.K. kind of stared at her, then slapped herself on the forehead and cried, “D’oh! You mean I forgot to tell y’all he’s a queer?“ Well, it’s just not so. There’s a reason Dumbledore didn’t have himself a darling hubby in his secret chamber or whatever (it’s been awhile since I reread the books): if he were out – especially if he were out and happily partnered – you might know someone who had once found a copy of one of the books in a used book shop, and snorted with laughter telling you the story about that weird-ass kid’s book with the random gay headmaster. It would not be a famous series, and it would definitely not be a success. Dumbledore’s sexuality is not a detail. No one’s sexuality - straight, gay, bi, trans or whatever – is a detail. The reason Dumbledore’s sexuality was made a detail is that it would have been too much for us had we known it from the start. I also find it significant that the gay one dies…
| Currently reading : The Well of Loneliness By Radclyffe Hall Release date: 1928  |
MY DEEP DARK SECRET IS…
Current mood: 
bored
Category: Quiz/Survey
take the “what’s your dark secret?” quiz
| courtesy of mewing.net. where darkness and secrecy abound.
take the taboo quiz.
and go to mewing.net. nothing is taboo there.
 |
Currently reading : Siddhartha By Hermann Hesse Release date: 01 December, 1981 |
shonen and knife
The Thing started out alone, great and waxen and all there was, nameless; and for sure there’s no reason, but after the Thing there was a Knife. The Thing had no qualities. The Knife’s only quality was not being the Thing.
The action of the Knife was to go scissoring splendidly through the Thing, leaving gaps, ragged edges; the very first split it made began the time when I was awake.
I was awake at the end of the Knife, watching it drag through the void and leave behind my life.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_illusion
I call it a vision - just because, that’s why - but I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. It wasn’t like I saw G O D or perceived anything about the universe. It was just intra-me stuff. My subconscious telling me: you’re a big girl now. You’re all grown up.
Goes like this:
I was standing under a huge night sky. The sky was perfectly black and filled up with perfectly white stars that gleamed like stadium lights. There were hills, perfectly green, rolling endlessly on in front of me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the real world look so tall.
I walked forward like plunging through time until there was a line of trees in the distance. The trees grew closer and closer until they reached from one end of the horizon to the other. I stood and waited until I saw, coming from the trees, a woman made of white spiritly-gauzy ectoplasm. Long white hair whipping over mucosal, folding and unfolding white shoulders, a flowing white body like a loose dress. She approached me and walked through me, but she didn’t come out the other side. We just combined.
That’s what I saw at Marwood when they stood in a circle and sang to me. That’s a memory I can only love them for, and myself, and my life as I’ve had the fortune to live it up to now. I mean, things can be bad, but I have so much crap to be grateful for, I deserve a smack in the face if I ever operate from anything but gratitude towards the people who’ve given me everything I have and love.
I’m a wickerbox doubter, all full of splinters, but Marwood’s iron. No goddamn splinters in there.
I went for a walk today. There was a mean dog that I didn’t wanna walk by twice, so I cut through the fields Dad and I used to go “bushwhacking” in when I was little. What surprised me was that it seemed just as big now as it seemed then. The barbed wire fences fallen down into the tall grass seemed harmless, maybe, and it was a little more apparent that we were really just a few hundred yards out of sight of big suburban backyards; but that one low tree still made me want to sit down, that one field with the sharp little plants still seemed just as rugged. The one-board bridge across Mud Lake was still there, and by some miracle it held me and the dog both.
I loved it.
I realized that I grew out of the little girl I pretend not to have known, and I’m still the same person, just with the white lady on my side.
