So much time.

So this whole graduation thing is strange. 

Combined with trying to blog again makes it even stranger. 

For the past two years I have thought about school. That's it. 

Even when I wasn't at school or doing homework, there would always be a nagging voice inside of me reminding me of the loads of things I needed to get done. 

During the summer I would think about what classes I would be taking in the fall, what books I needed to order, blah blah blah. 

Now I have tons of time. This time does not involve thinking about school at all because. . . I graduated.

So I have come to the realization that UC Berkeley has been stealing all of my thoughts for the past two years. 

So my mind has been pretty blank this week. 

The moral of the story: I'm super thankful for television. 

I'm really hoping that when I become a graduate of UC Berkeley tomorrow afternoon, the desire to shower and wear real clothes comes back. 

Well. 

I hope it comes back in a couple days. 

Not tomorrow. 

GREAT NEWS!

Maria's mom has found the first picture ever taken of me and Maria together. This is great news. 

I represent the large arrow and Maria the small arrow. 

I don't know who these other people are.  

My Best Friend Is Getting Married.

On the 28th of this month my best friend is getting married. This means you will be subjected to tons of pictures of us over the years. 


I remember the first day I met Maria. 

Well. 

No. 

That's a lie. 

I think. 

I'm pretty sure we met when we were babies. So I remember the first day I can remember Maria. It was at my grandparent's house in Orange County, and my family had just gotten back from Knott's Berry Farm (I think.) and I had just been given some of those curly shoe laces. 

Yeah. 

Those kind. 

And I don't remember saying anything to her. I just have weird flashes of us standing there saying nothing to each other. 

Maria and her family were missionaries in Spain, and lived with my family for six months when they were on furlough. 

I was six and she was five. 

Funny though, because I kind of count those six months as my entire childhood. 

This picture sums us up well. 

Most of those six months were made up of us playing Robin Hood in the back yard. She would be Robin Hood, and I would be Little John. . . that is. . . unless Maid Marian was involved. . . then I would be Robin Hood and she would be Maid Marian. I don't think I was ever the girl in any make believe story. Ever. I ended up being taller though, so it makes sense. 

We also snuck raw hot dogs out of the fridge and ate them in the back yard. This might have only happened once, but my inner child tells me we did it all the time. 

Over the next ten years we would see each other whenever our moms got together. Maria lived in San Diego, and I lived in Northern CA. So this only happened a couple times a year. Also those ten years didn't involve much social networking. . . so keeping in touch was obviously impossible. 

I stayed at her house when I was around 12 and we saw Episode I at midnight. We were fully planned to make Jedi robes for the occasion, but I am going to assume that our brothers wouldn't let us.

I was home schooled (so was Maria, twins!), and one day when I was 17 my mom dropped me off at Peet's coffee to do my school work while she ran errands. I decided to make the really great decision of drinking black iced coffee. 

Now.

 I don't drink coffee. 

Basically ever. 

So this caffeine thing really hit me hard. 

I thought I was going to die. 

When my mom picked me up she informed me that tickets to Dominica (where my sister lives) were only $500, and that I should go visit her.


 With my life flashing before my eyes, I decided it would be a great idea to buy a ticket to Dominica right then and there (well, at my house later in the day, remember, this is 6 years ago, I didn't just have an iphone or whatever). 

I wasn't about to go by myself. 

Who better than to take than Maria, who I hadn't really hung out with that much in the last ten years, but still counted as my best friend. 

So I called her mom and she said. . . 

YES!

So we went to the Caribbean. Which really set our best friend friendship for forever. 

We also watched a lot of Little House on the Prairie while we were there. 

It was at this time that we made our pact that if one of us died a tragic young death that the other person would have to get a tattoo of shirtless Pa in remembrance of the other. 

We're really hoping that neither of us die young and tragically. 

Since Dominica Maria and I have tried our best to see each other at least once or twice a year for a wonderful sleepover/photo shoot/shopping extravaganza. 

These are from April 2007. 

So is this one. We're hilarious. 

I visited Maria in San Diego and we did a lot of touristy things. We also found a bus stop bench that had an ad for a Relient K album on it. . . which kept us and our cameras busy for like an hour. 

Or two. 

Of course our photo shoots became more elaborate. 

(and we were finally exiting our awkward phase. . . kinda)

Here is us being magical and Disneyland last year.

Although there are a lot more fantastic things we've said and done, and more beautiful photographs of us. . . I'm guessing that is all anyone cares to see. 

If not you can email me for more info on our ability to sing High School Musical, Regina Spektor, and quote Adventures in Odyssey.  

So Maria.


You're getting married.


And I'm happy for you.


But sad for me.


I know you're going to be a wonderful wife, and your life is going to be full of wonderful happiness. Because good things follow you.


I know that we'll still have fun times, and since Michael is a good person, he'll have to go out of town sometimes and then I'll come have sleepovers with you.


But growing up is weird. Especially when it involves huge life changes.


I mean, I've known you as long as I've known my mom.


Only my mom was already married when I was born.


So Maria.


You're my best friend.


And I don't know about you, but I'm kinda planning on sticking with you.


Mostly because I love you and you're the best person I know. . .


and also because I hate making new friends. 

So Michael. 

Be good to my best friend. 

And Maria. 

I'm glad you've found someone who likes to make funny faces with you as much as I do.

♥

I need a grown up job.

So I wait tables at an undisclosed location.


When I got on for my shift today I had a table of five sit down. . . this five turned into 10 over the course of a few hours, but it was fine because we were slow. Half of them just ordered things like coffee and a cookie. . . the other half small appetizers. A couple of them had to leave early so I split off their checks and they paid and went on their way. Then they were down to about seven.


Okay. Back story done.


I see they are getting up to leave so I walk to the door to say thank you and blah blah, I'm bored.


An old woman approaches me from the table wearing eye dilation glasses. . . under her regular glasses (which coming from someone who has watched a 3D movie with dilated eyes, she was overdoing it). Our conversation was the following. . .


Me: "Thanks so much, have a great day!"
Lady: "I need to tell you something."
Me: "Oh, yes?" (Thinking she'll tell me I'm beautiful and have great hair)
Lady: "We did not appreciate that you stuck us with one check."
Me: "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you all wanted separate checks. If you would have asked I would have been happy to do that for you."
Lady: "No. We were all afraid to ask."
Me: "Oh, well, I had split checks for other people at the table. . . "
Lady: "I'm trying to tell you something!" (I'm imagining her eyes looked very angry at this point)
Me: "Okay."
Lady: "We. Did. Not. Appreciate. It."


Then she mumbled something and walked away.


They were all wearing Grey Panther shirts, which apparently is an ageism activism group. Someone might need to let them know that they are not being discriminated against because they are old, but because they are crazy.


Moral of the story: Never be so afraid of your waitresses beauty that you can't ask for separate checks.

Hello?

Matty--I'm trying.

I have been cleaning out my closet today (a very bad decision), and I ran across some old journals. Apparently, in December of 2008 I was reading Dickens (not surprising because I read him every December) and he seemed to have taken quite a toll on my writing style. The fact that I was journaling in an old-timey Alice and Wonderland book probably didn't help.

12/12/08 (Flight to Garland, TX) 

"Dare I say it, but I have been imagining myself as a trapeze artist walking along the plane's wing for a good twenty minutes. I should think that a most queer profession, and I do wonder how one even becomes a trapeze artist. Do you awaken one morning with the notion that flying through the sky wearing tights and balancing with a pole is something that would give you great pleasure? Nay, I should think one is born with the idea. Even as a babe you should decide upon it. Without those many years to muster up courage, I should believe not a soul would go into such a business as that of a trapeze artist." 

Nineteen year old Emily was pretty awesome. 

21.

"There is still no cure for the common birthday" 

-John Glenn 

Amour Propre

I had to go to the DMV today to get the address changed on my registration so that I could get a residential parking permit for where I live. 

It was all worth it though because on my way out the door a man stopped me and jokingly asked for my autograph. 

My hair was even wet. 

Who knows what he would have asked for if it was dry. 

Sorry about that.

I'd like to apologize for the 8 month hiatus you all had to take from my life. You missed a lot of entertaining things. Because that is all my life is, one adventure after another. Never a dull moment!

Well, not really.

Nothing really happened.

Except, I moved out again. This time for reals. Because I'm paying for it.

That means I can't leave. For a year.

But I like it very much, so I'm okay with that.

Oh yeah, and I got into UC Berkeley.

In other news: I just made myself the best open faced sandwich ever.

The ingredients are as follows--1. Multi grain bread from Trader Joe's 2. Delicious garlic hummus 3. Alfalfa sprouts 4. red pepper 5. baby carrots and snap peas on the side (okay, that's not part of the sandwich, but it really compliments it.)

Annnddddd TA-DA!

(Oh, and that's PG Tips in the mug.)

(And that is Marilyn Monroe's face.)

One other exciting thing that happened to me.

Just a few minutes ago, I received a call from ALASKA!

I didn't answer it though.

I never answer numbers I don't know.

It's too weird.

They didn't leave a message either.

I'm just going to assume it was a member of the Palin family.

Quote of Thanksgiving.

Mom: "Oh no, we forgot to say a blessing over Thanksgiving dinner."

Grandpa: "Oh my God."

Uncle: "Well, dad just did."

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

I'm reading it again.

And no one can stop me.

I'm not obsessed. Really.

Today I made the trek down to Orange County to visit with my grandparents for Thanksgiving.

I am very excited for this.

Tomorrow we are going to Balboa Island.

And all my poor holiday heart can think of is the ambrosia I will be eating on Thursday. . and Thursday night before bed. . and friday for breakfast, and then a snack, and then another snack, and a side dish, and dessert.

If you don't know ambrosia as more than a band, you should look it up.

Delicious.

Anyway, I got into my car this morning, and Sufjan Stevens Christmas was playing on my ipod already. I've gotten a little burned out on this album because it's been the only Christmas music I've allowed myself to listen to pre-Thanksgiving.

I started this pre-Thanksgiving binge about a month ago.

I realized that I hadn't listened to The Beatles for a good week or two, so I decided to put them on shuffle.

Then I decided to keep them on shuffle.

The whole trip.

Seven and a half hours.

It's was wonderful.

The only song that repeated was Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band. I attribute that to the fact that not only is it on SPLHCB, but it's also on Yellow Submarine. My poor shuffle didn't even know what it was doing to me.

This is what will get me in.

This is what I wrote in response to the first prompt for my personal statement. Basically the question was how did you decide on your major.

Everyone tell me that it is super good. It will make me feel less nervous.

"I did not choose Media Studies as my major. It chose me. I fought it hard for two years. As a high school student, I dreamt of being an artist, and showing the world beauty through my creative expression. I wanted nothing more than to live in a cardboard box held together with twine and decorated with glitter and acrylic paint.

My journey to accepting my fate started my first semester at Diablo Valley College. I enrolled in English 122—the basic English class every student has to take if they ever hope to transfer. There I found my voice and my love of writing. I discovered ways to convey my message not through paint and graphite, but words--beautiful words full of history and elegance. Here my fight began. My teacher would often use my papers as examples for other students, and talk to me after class about how I should pursue writing. I ignored this and reminded myself that I was an artist.

My next challenge came the following semester in my Philosophy class. Here I learned how to reason and persuade through words. I wrote over twenty papers for the class. Again, my teacher had nothing but praise. I was confused. My whole life I wanted to create, and while my art teachers treated me as nothing more than mediocre, my Philosophy and History teachers told me that I was something special, and that I needed to pursue writing and the study of human nature.

I met the teacher that finally changed my mind in the spring of 2009--just eleven months ago. John Hanecak walked into my speech class the first morning and asked those who were afraid of public speaking to raise their hand. I looked around, my hands folded in my lap, and realized that I was the only one without a hand raised high. He looked in my direction, smiled, and nodded. Over the next four and a half months, I thrived. Giving speeches came like breathing.

On my final day of class, I finished my last speech and walked up to my teacher to receive my grade. He was grinning from ear to ear and told me what an honor it was to have me in his class. He said I was one of the best speech students he had ever had. As I walked away with my grade in hand, I read the note he had written on my paper, "Consider speaking in any field you are in. You will make such an important impact, as you have done here".

Feeling that it was too late to change my major, I said goodbye to my friends and family, packed my belongings and moved to Southern California to attend Cal State Fullerton and pursue art. I lasted two weeks. I knew it was wrong. I moved back home, got my old job back, and began plans to study not art, but writing, and speaking, my passions.

As all humans, I was born with multiple talents, but now I know the one that shines brightest is my ability to communicate with others—for after all, what is art but conveying a message, and I am an artist."

Sorry.

I promise I haven't stopped blogging.

I just haven't been with my computer very much this weekend.

Okay, that was a lie.

College kid.

I applied.

*ring ring*

I will soon need to purchase a Christmas ringtone.

I need ideas.

Please help.

God Jul.

The Swedish Christmas Fair is nearly upon us.

December 5th.

It's one of my favorite days of the year.

I love a good hair day.

This is the best thing I have ever seen.

http://www.thinkofthe.com/products/lunch_bag.php

Pick up yours today.

When a person is in fashion, all they do is right.

"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society."

-Mark Twain

I'm going to look fabulous tomorrow.

I've already decided.

In the darkness of my night, in the brightness of my day.

I have a really great boyfriend.

Today I found out that tuition for school is going to go up 32% by next fall.

That's 32% I won't have.

I cried a little.

But he told me that it would be okay.

And I believe him.

Please oh please oh please oh please. . .

Does anyone else secretly hope that when they step out of the elevator they will have been transported to another world?

I hope that.

Every time.

They took some honey, from a tree, dressed it up and they called it me.

Does anyone else have those days when they eat one too many spoonfuls of creamed honey?

That is my day.

Right now.

Quote of the day

"I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal."

-Jane Austen

I might kiss you on the back of the neck, because it's Christmas time.

I have to respect this.

Christmas lights before Thanksgiving.

It's a bold move, but I like it.

He's a dedicated follower of fashion.

After work today I walked over to Peet's Coffee to get my daily fill of Winter Solstice, and wait for my boyfriend to get off of work.

I always sit at the bar so I can look out the window and people watch.

I saw this man, and without so much as a blink, grabbed my camera.

I think he thinks he was having a good day.

But I think he more just looks like a cross between these two people.

Remember, tip your waitresses.

I have lost all faith in the youth of America.

Today at work I had responsible, nice, pleasant young girls sit at one of my tables. They were about 14 or 15. . .give or take.

They each ordered a lemonade, which surprised me since it costs 3.25, but I rang it up. Then they each ordered an entree, not off the lunch menu, so it was pricey (as pricey as my glorified fast food restaurant can get), and to finish it off they split a chocolate soufflé.

Their bill was sixty dollars.

Now, I expected the tip they were going to leave me to not be so great. It was obviously what was going to happen.

I picked up their bill, and they asked for change.

Their change was four dollars.

I still had faith and thought, maybe they just want to figure out the tip after.

Nope.

No tip.

Zero.

They are old enough to know that is really rude.

And so, because of this, I am convinced that they will all grow up to be waitresses and realize the error of their ways. OR I'll run into them in a dark ally, and I will make sure they realize the error of their ways.

The end.