Tag Archives: blog

Random Things that Happened Today

For my journalism class, we had to write a blog post outlining what our first article was going to be. So I got up early and did it (on a different blog than this). Then I went to class, and found out that

a. We were supposed to do it during class

b. The teacher had my blog post up as an example of how it should be done

c. I had nothing to do during class but get on facebook

After Journalism class I zipped off to Oral Interpretations class, arriving at the same time as my friends Brandon and Emma.

Brandon started to open the door to go in. Emma said, “they’re not done yet!”

“I need to get mumble mumble,” said Brandon.

So we all three went in and hid behind the bleachers until the previous class, an acting class, was done. We heard all about how to breathe from your diaphragm, and how it is possible to breathe from other places, like your back. Sometimes we peeked through the cracks in the bleachers and watched them.

I’d never really been behind the bleachers before. There were a bunch of giant file cabinets back there, with illustrations showing that if you had more than one drawer open at a time the whole thing could fall on you.

And squash you.

There was also a desk with a bunch of stamps and bottles of ink a paperclips on it. I found a pink paperclip and held it up and Brandon took it in his mouth.

Emma: Where did you find a pink paperclip?

Brandon: Emily found it.

Emma: Emily! Brandon’s sick all the time already, you don’t need to go sticking dirty paper clips in his mouth.

Me: But you know how farm kids who grow up around dirt and manure have better immune systems? Maybe I’m just making his immune system better!

Emma: He’s gonna die and it’ll be your fault!

Brandon: But Emily’s so sweet, that wouldn’t mind being killed by her.

Emma: However, if she killed you, she’d be committing an act of violence, and would no longer be sweet.

Brandon: Somehow, Emily would manage to be sweet, even while killing me.

Acting class finished then, and we went went around and sat on the bleachers and had Oral Interpretations class.

When Oral Interpretations was over, I went to the cafeteria to heat up my soup. Across the room I saw my WR121 teacher from two years ago. So I waved.

Mr.Riseley waved back. Then he yelled across the room. “Hey Emily! You should come to the open source club meeting!”

“When is it meeting?” I asked.

“Right now!”

“Can I eat in there?” I held up my soup.

“I think so!” He held up his salad.

So I picked up my soup and went to the open source club. I didn’t really know what an open source club was, but it made me think of computer geeks. Mr.Riseley said it was something artsy, and so I would like it, because I’m into theater and theater is artsy. (Mr.Riseley’s son was in A Christmas Carol with me.)

So I went. I was kind of confused as to what the club was actually about, because not a lot of people showed up, they didn’t stay for very long, and they were all guys who said computer-geeky things to each other like “you did most of the coding for that website didn’t you?”

But from what I could gather, the point of the club was mostly to work towards making creative content available to the public, mostly through the internet. Mr.Riseley told me to google “creative commons” to get a better idea of what the club was about.

Later that afternoon I went to the theater club meeting. When I walked in, Brandon and Emma were doing origami with a giant piece of paper. They were making 3 ft tall paper crane. For the meeting we sat in a circle around them, watching them make all the folds and struggle to turn the whole thing over.

Then I went home and told mom about the randomness that landed me in a computer-geek club meeting. When I got to the part where I thought ‘open source’ sounded geeky but Mr.Riseley said it was artsy, she suddenly got a shocked look on her face and said, “Oh my stars. Was it actually ‘open sores?'”

I laughed so hard I couldn’t breath. Jenny said, “since when are open sores artsy?”

Mom said, “I don’t know, people find a lot of gross stuff artsy these days.”

No. It was the open source club, not the open sores club.

I was so tired after supper that I fell asleep.

Then I was rudely awakened after midnight, because Steven wanted to ask if he could use my car tomorrow.

That’s why I’m up now, posting.

What Keeps Me Awake at Night

I suppose I have lists so ingrained in my system that I cannot possibly post without making a list of some sort. Just one of my quirky quirks I guess, but by the end of this post (or this list) you will see that it isn’t my quirkiest quirk.


1. Fear of forgetting my past.

2. Fear of living a life that isn’t worth remembering.

3. Blogging in my head.

First quirky quirk: I am obsessed with remembering my past. I don’t know why. But last night I couldn’t fall asleep until I could remember what happened every single year of my life from my first memory of my third birthday, and I freaked out because I couldn’t remember what happened when I was eight.

Yearbooks, old diaries, and old notebooks should be off-limits to me after 10:00 pm, because once I dive into them I get obsessed, and I cannot go to bed until I figure out what year I liked which guy and what month I switched from one crush to another and compare the spans of time on each and make a chart and understand which guy I liked more and which was just a passing silly fancy.

I am legitimately afraid of forgetting my past. I will tell you why: If I forget a span of time, it feels like that time never existed, which is scary, like that watch in that old Odyssey story that would let you skip ahead in time. That episode always freaked me out.

Quirky quirk number two: I am afraid of living a life that isn’t worth remembering. Last summer, for instance, I worked at a grocery story. Now, just a year later, I can’t really remember anything significant that happened last summer. As I mentioned before, THAT FREAKS ME OUT. So this summer I go to bed after a boring day and lie awake, afraid that next summer I won’t remember this summer because it will be nothing.

The third quirky quirk:  I lie awake at night blogging in my head. This is a huge time waster, but it’s so hard to stop. After the whole “freaking out because I can’t remember what happened when I was eight” incident last night, I thought I could blog about it, and so I lay awake writing this post in my head. Multiple times. What a terrible idea.

Especially because this morning a fly found my face attractive, so every time I tried to go back to sleep it would wake me up again, and I got no extra sleep compensation for the time spent obsessing about memories and head blogging.

Okay. Question time. Am I completely weird here or do any of you guys struggle with a fear of having sections of  your life that you can’t really remember?

And also, does anyone else stay awake at night blogging in their head?

Thank you for your input.

The Quirk