50 Fact that Should Change the World: http://nipun.charityfocus.org/blog.php?id=929

^Everyone should at least read this link (its really a book, but they're listed here)^

Now you can read my rank...lol...

I know that there are a lot of heated opinions out there, but i just have to say that Americans can be such idiots sometimes.

This whole incident with BP. Protesting BP. Refusing to buy oil from BP. Fine, thats...fine. But these protestors are the same people buying products from companies causing the same problems or worse in other countries, but when someone says "hey, you should probably stop drinking Coke" they just shrug it off. Americans don't care about the environment. They care about blaming foreign companies for anything bad that happens on their soil.

I hear these "down-home-southern" men complaining about those damn brits and their oil spill. Alright then, why don't you stop driving your gas guzzling trucks and get rid of the need for oil companies? Oh right, thats waaaaaay too much to ask. You complain about companies and you boycott when disasters happen, even though it could have happened to any big company. So what? You boycott BP and buy from Exxon...? Oh yeah, that so much better! At least what BP did was not intentional. American companies spread across foreign soil intentionally destroying the environment, but you dumb protestors don't care about that right? Because you want your cheap goods at cheap prices and you don't care where it came from or how it got there.

So fine. Run BP out of town! BUUUUUURN THEM! Call them bad names! Get yer pitch fork and get 'em outta here!!!

Its starting to drive me a little crazy that you'll so adamantly oppose one oil company (mainly because you probably didn't shop there to begin with, so its no skin off your nose to protest them), while at the same time shopping at companies who are probably engaged in similar acts of destruction.

This summer has been rough. Secluded from nearly everyone I know, love and trust, I allowed myself in true Emily fashion, to secome to a selfish and sedentary life style. Living bedtime to bedtime I forgot what hard work and comitment meant. I forgot that I wasn't going to live in my parents living room for the rest of my life. I forgot that my choices have consequences. This summer has been nothing more than a spiral downwards.

If you would like to say "I told you so" or give me advice on what my obvious next step should be, please take a number.

Since I'm lucky if one person reads this blog, I don't really feel the need to limit myself in anyway. Especially not in my current state.

This summer I have gained 15 lbs. 15 extremely noticeable pounds. This summer I read books, I watched old episodes of West Wing, I stopped going to church, and I developed a grotesque craving for sweets. And I went to bed every night disgusted with myself. There was a time when I could get dressed and feel somewhat positive about my appearence. Today I literally cry everytime i look in a mirror that reveals more than just my face. I live daily now with humiliation.

Humiliation.

In SSA's production of Sweeney Todd, running from one side of the stage to the other while singing high G's caused my to lose my breath, nearly causing me to injure my vocal chords.

Now, 5 days before I return to my home, I am filled with fear. What if you suddenly find me as gross as I find myself? What if, despite your best efforts, you no longer find my attractive? What if my joy in seeing you is crushed by the look of disappointment on your face when you see me?

My mind wanders to dark places and I never want to move again. I know, more than I've ever known anything before that unless I get my act together these things will happen:

I will never have a successful career in music theatre.

I will develop diabetes within the next 10 years.

I stand an 80% chance of having another major knee surgery.

I will continue to gain weight.

I know what to do, but believe it or not...you telling me, doesnt help. And the more you patronize me, the less I want to get out of bed in the morning. Please stop telling me what I need to do. Please stop sighing when I confide in you. Please understand that my frustration is not aimed at you...understand that I feel embarrassed and humiliated everytime I need a dress, but all the ones I own are too small.

Please help me. I need help.

Sry if I projected onto you Reader. Most of this isnt literally about "you." But thanks for reading.

-Em

P.S. Its 2am and i'm really upset, so please excuse all of the many grammatical errors. Thanks.

The Delusions of Desperation and Despair: a literary essay

The final moments of life—quiet, a tunnel, white light and emptiness, the greeting of a kind and familiar face--hope’s last death rattle.  Speculations on humans’ response, in mind and body, to Death’s grasp have been explored for centuries by scientists, philosophers, and now by writers such as Ambrose Bierce in his Civil War drama, “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” 

In this time, this fleeting moment before his gruesome and sudden end, a phenomenon of the human spirit occurs in Peyton Farquhar.  Delusions of time extending and melding with nature compose a beautiful and perfect symphony of just fulfillment.  Captured and awaiting punishment for interfering with the railroad, Farquhar’s fate becomes “commingled and blurred.”  The moment of suspension shifts to a long, detailed, and biased account of events that could have been.  Farquhar’s imagined series of events defines the battles lines between good and evil where before there were none.  His story becomes one of celebrated, yet humble, heroism as fear of dying in vain seeps from the deep recesses of his subconscious.  Now, with nature’s protection from the evil army of the North, Farquhar returns to his home and family safe after a long journey through a river, a forest and a long, deserted road.  But the unfortunate truth cannot be escaped—an extraordinary journey cut short by the snap of the noose’s embrace.

Farquhar’s queer experience not only questions the bounds of time and its significance, but also dares to question hope--humans’ futile attempts at escaping mortality.  

I <3 VBS

Let me begin by saying that I love people.

Let me continue by saying...

Something is wonderful about going out on fun adventures (?) with people you rarely get to be with, spending money on the most random articles for no other reason than that they made you laugh.  I laughed.  Me finding something funny.  

Me thinking it's a harmless fun thing does not make me less cool.

I am not a lesser person than anyone.  

I am awkward.

I am socially uncomfortable.

I can often think of nothing to say.

I sometimes say things that are not thought out.

You talent, your clothes, your taste in music, contribute little to your character and much to your sense of self importance.  

I am not a lesser person than anyone.

Most importantly...I <3>

My filter is dying.  Instead of those rare occasions when I think twice before I speak, I speak so far ahead of my brain that I can feel my tact slipping from my grasp.  The very little amount of tact that I had to begin with.  

Let me conclude by saying that I am guilty of this same practice.  When I have seen a movie you haven't, or listen to a new indie band no on has heard of, spout my "enlightened" opinion, I often feel that momentary sense that I have somehow achieved a new rung on the ladder.  

This however, is dumb.  

Thats all.

Exposition

I'm new to this.  Very new.  12 minutes ago I didn't even know how to get a blog.  Upon rereading old xanga posts, I have come to the conclusion that having the ability to go back and read how I wanted others to perceive me, can be useful.

Expect little.

You'll get less.

Until Later