THE JU: Feeling Insignificant

really sucks

THE JU: Coming to an End

Saturday night was my senior prom. Something insignificant and monumental at the same time. Senior Prom means different things to different people. Here's what it meant to me

It meant that Saturday I would get off four and a half hours early.

Pick Kate up from her house

Drive to a florist to pick up the boutonnieres

End up being late to get my hair done

Spend an hour getting my hair done

Thirty minutes getting my makeup done

Go back to my house

And have Kate tape me into a dress that I spent the entirety of my tax refund check on

It meant that

my Mom would take pictures of Oliver, Jim, Kate and I in front of the lilac bush

and my neighbors would instantly know what was going on when they turned on to our street

It meant that Oliver and I would stall at dinner for two and a half hours because there was no traffic

That we would tour the EMP for half the dance 

And Ollie would finally let me take him swing dancing when we got bored

But now that it's over, it means a little more than that

Not the dance itself, with so much build up and anticipation all I really care about is getting to wear my dress again

But my senior prom has come and past

And i have to admit I never thought I'd make it

Now I'm graduating in 2 1/2 weeks

And i will never have to go back 

I'll be 18 in three weeks, I'll get my nose pierced, and I'll get my birthday dance at swing

And I will never see some of the people i love again

So as this part of my life is coming to an end, I can't help but think about those I've lost, and all the things that were left unsaid and undone.

I don't have any regrets, but I wish I could say that my childhood was everything it needed to be. I guess I have the next 3 weeks to make it that. 

EM: Swine Flu

So, I'm gonna' state my opinion about this whole thing and then just be done with it. If I don't, I'm seriously gonna' punt a baby across my room. Swine flu... oh the dreaded swine flu... wanna' know something about the swine flu?.... IT'S THE FUCKING FLU!!!!!!!!!!!!! FOR THE LOVE OF JESUS CHRIST IN HEAVEN, IT.... IS.... THE.... FLU! Wanna' know how you avoid being infected with this oh so deadly sickness???? Here's a list of DUMB ASS ways to avoid it:

• Wash your hands a lot (which you should be doing anyway!)
• Don't share a single drink with 10 freaking people (which you should NOT be doing anyway!)
• When you kiss your significant other, be sure that they're not licking the door knobs at grey hound bus station bathrooms (Seriously...)
• Cover your mouth when you cough (NO BRAINER)
• Cover your WHOLE FACE when you sneeze (DUMB ASS)
• OVER ALL JUST DON'T BE STUPID AND DO NOT, I repeat... DO NOT BE A FREAKING HYPOCHONDRIAC!

I mean come on people, it's the flu, this is exactly what happened with Bird Flu (Which was way more deadly anyway) and SARS (which people had a 98% chance of survival with) and Mad Cow (which isn't the same thing, but the hype was the same so I'm counting it). Where are the most people dying from this????? MEXICO! Why? Becuase Mexico has really really really really REALLY shitty healthcare!!!! Ok? GOD!!!!!!!

That is my opinion on Swine Flu. I'm not going to get it, I'm not going to die, and if everyone stays healthy and smart, we should be fine. Why? Because it's the flu. 

If you have a problem with what I'm saying, then keep it to yourself, because this is MY blog, not yours and I don't need your NEGATIVE opinions. If you just want to laugh at me and tell me I have anger management, that's cool, because well, I probably do. 

EM: Get over it!

Ah, the immortal words. Usually you don't hear them from yourself, you hear it from those around you. But nah, this time it's the opposite. I'm telling myself to get the fuck over it. (And my roommate Alyssa, who is a very persistent girl... can't say I blame her... she's gotta live with me, haha) Why? Because I need to. This person I've been lately, this nonstop crying, not getting out of bed, wears sunglasses all the time so know one sees my swollen eyes... THAT'S NOT ME! When has that ever been me? Why would I want it to be me? It's not going to be me, it's not worth it! I've got too much to look forward to and I'm letting it go finally. I mean, come on, it's been like two weeks. People keep saying "I understand, that wasn't long ago at all!" Thanks guys, but honestly, it's long enough, good god. And for those of you who kind of have been assholes during the process (you may or may not know who you are) if I seem a little more distant, don't try and make it better. You're own fault, and I'm moving on from it all. No more going home every weekend of my college life, no more staying in my room by myself and not having any friends, and no more not taking responsibility for it. I'm digging myself out of this hole and thinking about just myself for ONCE in my life. So here we go, new Emily, blank canvas. Oooo! Maybe I'll get a really drastic haircut... that kind of sounds appealing... hmmm.... maybe not.... I like my golden locks.... huh... well enough A.D.D.ness, here starts the adventure!!!!

and btw, I'm also done trying to act more intelligent than I really am... fuck that! Life's too short and I'm a proud, eccentric, at times total dumb ass. Don't like it, BITE ME!

Em: The ShamWOW Test!

 

EM: People... why I hate them

In all honesty, I have to question sometimes whether or not there's such a thing as a "good person" at all. I mean, not everyone is a "bad person", but we ALL do bad things. But it's when you truly poor your heart into something and involve those around you that you realize who can be pegged as a good person. Honestly, I devoted a solid three years of my life to a certain department that I loved quite dearly. I spent every waking hour of my free time doing things that would benefit that department and revolved my whole life around it. I lived and breathed for it and it honestly made me happier than anything else in the world. Now that this part of my life is over, and I'm pursuing other things as an adult, I find myself needing more and more help from those I love, those I need, THOSE I'VE HELPED. In what realm does it become at all mature or appropriate for a GROWN ADULT to rat our two teenagers selling cookies? After the years or work we did for you, the tears we cried and the BULLSHIT we put up with, you can't throw us a bone? You really have the gall to report us to the man and send us packing? It's times like this when you really know where people's priorities are. It all comes down to what they consider important; selling candy bars, or allowing to struggling kids to raise money for something they've invested all of themselves in and DESPERATELY need. It's ridiculous honestly, because they were still doing 10 times better than us anyway, so it's not even like we were stealing their thunder. So congrats those of you who did this, because you've shown your true colors and now you never need to worry about dealing with me, because I'm done with you. I'm done with the department, I'm done with the friendly visits, I'm done with the HELPING, and I'm done with the fake plastered smile on my face. You're no longer my superiors, I don't have to impress any of you, I don't need you, and I never did. You can all just FUCK OFF because when this is all done, it will put you so called "adults" to shame. It will be amazing, and it will be because of EMILY HURTIN and DREW CARTER. Don't forget those names later when you're getting your diaper changed at the retirement home my some guy named Molly, because we'll have moved on to bigger and better things, and you'll be able to say "wow, I really should have been an adult, got a life, and moved on too." And then, I'LL LAUGH. Because I'm a respectful person, yeah, sure, BUT MESS WITH ME AND YOU'RE FUCKED FOR LIFE

THE JU: The Greatest thing Ever

So this is an essay that I read in my English 101 textbook "The Writers Way" and I think it's safe to say that it's one of the funniest things ever written/ is totally true. I have long thought about blogging about the horrors of Libby Lu but nobody says it better than Neve Chonin, so I'll leave it to her

NOTIN' BUT A TWEEN THANG

NEVA CHONIN

I live in a blessed bubble. My local cafes have free wireless, two green grocers gracet the neighborhood, my landlords babysit my pet mouse, and I have never seen a Club Libby Lu.

If you like me, knew nothing of Club Libby Lu until recently lemme tell ya, they're all the rage. Club Libbly Lu is a chain of more that 80 stores targeting girls ages 5 to 12, konwn by marketers as the "tween" demographic. This is the age where girls grow tired of toddling but haven't yet decided to hate their parents.

According to http://www.clublibbylu.com/, their stores aren't just retail outlets, but "something special!" They offer "a fun funky place to hang out" where grls can "dress up like a princess, rock star or drama queen" in a "famous Style Studio". They can get a manicure. They can "sing and dance to the latest club beat" with Libby's "inspiring Club Counselors". At Libby Lu "every girl is treated like a VIP--Very Important Princess! It's totally a girl thing!"

Totally! Libby Lu is one reason I'll never have children. The thought of sharing my home with a preening little monster in drama queen drag is enough to make me...oh, do something that would qualify me as an unfit mother. Like engaging said child in endless games of "Make the Princess Cry" and "Destroy the Drama Queen's Self Esteem--Forever". Besides encouraging kids to be egotistical brats, Libby Lu and other kiddie stores like Monkey Dooz reinforce annoying stereotypes --as opposed to legitimate sexual differences--and transform children into tiny grotesques destined for an adulthood as gender-polarized as their parents'. Do all little girls long to be pretty in pink? Really? Because by age 6, I was eating dirt and wanting to be a Japanese robot. I pulled my Barbie dolls apart limb by limb and reassembled them into hybrid monsters. I did the usual sick stuff all kids, regardless of sex, love to do as they explore their world's boundries.

There are no Japanese robots at Club Libby lu. Instead, tweenies are treated to makeovers--hair extensions, makeup, the whole shebang--and then according to a March Washington Post article, led in a dance by club counselors who urge them to "shimmy down" and "shake it" while a soundtrack instructs "Wet your lips/ And smile to the camera".

That done, the tots visit the Pooch Parlor to selcet a miniature stuffed dog, complete with couture carrier and a doggie T-shirt sloganed with something like "They Royal Heiress".

I'm sorry, did my projectile vomit just splash your coffee mug? Such is the risk of freading me in the morning. Because, I mean, dude. Just...dude. I'll say it plainly: LIBBY LU IS BREEDING MONSTERS. GOD HELP US. GRAB THE KIDS. TAKE THE DOG AND HEAD FOR THE BOMB SHELTER. GO NOW. Does the world need more vapid idiots? Does it? Look at the White House. Look at Britney Spears and K-Fed. And it gets worse! From the Post, a description of Libby Lu's interior:

The store is pink. There are pink ruffles around the light fixtures. The walls and stools

are blue and pink. The staff wears pink. There are pink cowboy hats for sale, pink

Ugg-like boots, pink phones decorated with pink feathers. There are rings with huge

diamonds, like J.Lo might wear (only fake), with pink packaging that reads "Bling!

Bling!"

Bling. Bling. Pass me an airsickness bag, cover your cup and tell me what you think of this: Libby Lu is all the rage for birthday parties. So what if a little girl's circle of friends includes little boys? Are little boys allowed to explore their inner drama queens too? The question is rhetorical. Of course their not. Libby Lu likes to keep the sexes segregated, Taliban-style. Libby Lu isn't reggressive, it's revolutionary, proposing a level of male-female isolation that this country hasn't seen since Puritanism waned four centuries ago. Sayonara, childhood friendship between the sexes. Hello, tween-boy frat parties with ginger-ale kegs. This is what really irks me, but what bothers many anti-Libby parents the most is something hinted at in yet another Post outtake (hey I enjoy my newspapers). "Sometimes people walking through the mall gather by the windows at Club Libby Lu to watch the spectacle of little girls, "with all that pink and glitter. All that flesh too."

Mmmmm. All that little girl flesh. Tastes like chicken. Now, while my thoughts turn to cannibalism, others have less savory minds. For many moms, the thought of adults watching kids parade in skimpy outfits raises the specter of--what else?--pedophilia. Yow! Perverts in the mall!

To that, I say, hush. I do think it's wretched for Libby Lu to train tots for lives as gold-digging sex-bots, but I don't think it necessarily inspires men in trench coats to abscond with the foul little princesses. Some mothers disagree. They disagree to the point where they're ready to picket, say, Kenneth Cole for dressing kids in any kind of adult attire, even suits and ties.

Where does this leave us?

On one side the pink vaccum of Libb Lu; on the other, the repressive hysteria of neo-Puritans. Stuck in between on an ever-shrinking field of sanity, the rest of us,

I've said it before, so I might as well say it again: Procreation is vastly overrated.

(San Fransisco Chronicle, Datebooks, July 23, 2006)