sometimes pants blogger is new worried about the mysterious volume of apparent views from russia and random middle eastern countries not that I don't love 713 (?) views from the motherland just blogger, are you drunk? Reader: Dear Mr. Snicket, What is the best way to keep a secret? Lemony Snicket: Tell it to everyone you know, but pretend you are kidding. today was one of those good days that I want to remember and don't want to muck up with thoughts of the impending failure of my psych ap thus blogs oh the blogs that exist when I type on them and russian housemothers that do the reading of them oh the grammars I employ NONE OF THE PUNCTUATION except now it looks like i'm writing emotionally charged free verse but really I'm just scared of filling up all the white space over there now it's over here ew scary no! though quinlisk told me to stop writing poetry because I suck probably true but I wasn't actually writing about bees I promise I DIDN'T FUCKING MENTION BEES boy is afraid of bees and butterflies cute boy ugh no more returns its over. why am I writing? not because i'm sad at quinlisk, no! because, as mentioned, today. one of those days where you can listen to california gurls not once, nay, but TWICE! in addition to tswift (bridging on unironically! just kidding) and hall and oates and scatman john [but like not because you're upset and dancing to popular music is the only alternative to screaming,] rather this is the genuine need to dance like a crazy person because of adorable rompers and eighty degree weather and day fives and tall boys who write out "less than three." I ATE MEXICAN FOOD TONIGHT sometimes do you ever just want kfc like i'm a veggiemonster but they have chocolate cake and it just seems like cake chicken howdo??! chicken i have to pee topeka !!!!!!!!!!!

I really like french fries.

it's 12:14
thus
a blog post
despite the distinct lack of reasons
WHO NEEDS REASONS
just kidding
i don't have anything to write about
WHO NEEDS SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT
not me, no sir.
mostly just stress
stress upon stress resulting in a half a mental health day today
that's right
all of the stress
thus
can't even properly skip school
also
no use of pronouns
don't need pronouns.
WHO NEEDS PRONOUNS
yep.
it's been a long time since blogging.
other than that
things
tall boys are nice
other boys aren't
sometimes wegmans blueberry muffins are the best muffins ever
and they're only 4 for 4 dollars
so if I were you, I'd tap that
I hear yelling outside and it's really late is that a bad sign?????
I am awake outside and it's really late is *that* a bad sign?????
I came downstairs to the computer like two hours ago because my lung hurt and I thought that I should keep myself awake in case I died but my lungs stopped hurting and I'm still here and I'm working in less than holy poopies, in less than nine hours
so I shall sleep
http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/1695860/Cycadeoidea
boy :)

pants.

With new school years... comes new confusion.
Oysh gabibble.
I just read the last year or so in my blogs (mind you, that's like a grand total of three posts) and after that... it's like, "WOW, MURIE, DID YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND OR SOMETHING?" Well cheah.
So that ended.
On my terms.
Fun stuff.
So school is exhausting. For the majority of the last weeks, I've spent over 12 hours at school a day. I am so tired. My schedule is wake up, school, rehearsal, yearbook, psatprep, home, homework, try to sleep. Lather rinse repeat....
...which is why I'm blogging.
Speaking of rehearsal. Mrs. Shomper is at it again with Romeo and Juliet, yours truly starring as the title character... the Nurse. But no, seriously, the nurse is what's up. She's making it neo modern. All boys in skinny jeans. You want monks? No, you get matrixesque religiousmaybe figures. I want to wear momjeans so bad.
I miss nysssa. I miss being with those people every day because I can feel myself growing apart from certain kids and ahhh. Sometimes I'll just look up in class and say to myself "Gosh, it's 8:52. I'm late to being early to movement class." And it's so weird to not have coffee in my hand, striding up the stairs to the dance studio in my rehearsal skirt and legwarmers, ready learn how to minuet.
I never posted all summer. Huh. I was going to have a nysssa blog. But I was too busy... hahaha. I thought I would have time to blog... yeeeeah.
Camp Cory was, as ever, a success. My cabin kicked butt, and I believe that I was the king of the counselors, as, that's right, I won the Game. The ace of diamonds is now named after me.
These have abruptly stopped being funny. maybe I should journal for real HA THAT'D BE REAL OLDSCHOOL.

New Post

Blogging. It happens.
New school year, new stress.
After NYSSSA, of course, this is all busy work.
I miss the days when the most horrifying thing was Lizzy, who, despite my lingering terror, I think I love to death. Oh, to be yelled at for schmacting, or for masturbating on stage, or for not telling my story truthfully. Oh, to be making the eiffel tower out of ice cream, oh to be seducing josef. Why did I have to leave? Life changing. It was life changing.
Did you know that I am horribly shy? That I can't stand to be in the spotlight if I have to be myself? That all previous conceptions of love I had were incorrect? That snorting powdered sugar you found lying around in the common room is a great idea? That I have made some of the best friends I will ever have? That maybe, just maybe, I, as just me, will always be enough?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjFaenf1T-Y
Well, that was a nice crying rant I just went on.
Junior Year. Is happening.
I am so busy, my entire week went like this: rehearsal for R&J, yearbook, homecoming responsibilities.
Last night was fun though. The dance was a sock hop, which most people hated. I loved it. I finally got to make a poodle skirt, a pursuit I lost all hope of when my best friend in fourth grade told me that "everyone does that, it's tacky" we all went out for milkshakes and everyone dressed up and we danced the night away - the twist, charleston, lindy, swing.
On a silly note, Juniors lost homecoming. Again.
The skit got second place though, so I'm fine. Whatever.
Okay, I'm mostly done. Thing of note: confusion. I wish I was asexual. Like a lot.

the three gs of imperialism: gold, glory, god... and girls!

remember that time, oh, that time when i auditioned for nysssa?
and i really, really, sucked?

i am one of thirty students, chosen from all of new york, who has been invited to the new york state summer school of the art's school of theater. not toe damned bad.
i'm a champion.
no one reads this, so i'd just like to take an un-judged second to just stew in how excellent this is. i was chosen, out of over 450 students. 6% of those kiddos were chosen. .2% of those kiddos are me.
mindblowing.
i'm still so shocked.
i might be kinda really good at this acting thing.
okay so i'm done.

i don't even know what else to write.

oh, the yearbook is indeed finished. (i'm just running over with grand news.) and i was indeed credited as an editor - the sole editor - of the minimag. fwa-cha!... and stuff.

i saw dr horribles live the other day. it was interesting. dr horrible had a ponytail. the bad horse chorus was positively wonderful though. speaking of musicals, godspell is coming up. i do declare that everything sucks, except for possibly everything that has to do with jeremy. he is such a delight.

enough rambling. i'm not even going to read this over. i'm sure it's less than... stellar, but you know.

this title is relevant to my piece.

my index of posts is full of half written bites of nonsense, mostly starting with "so much has happened since i last posted"
but really, so much has.
i guess i'm not blogging anymore since i don't really feel like i have a reason.

not to step on any toes here, but let's be serious.

i suppose cara's blogging... if she reads other people's....

heavens, i've had quite the busy day.
it started with my nysssa audition.
i was really excited.
really, really, excited.
i did a monologue from twelfth night and the effect of gamma rays on the man in the moon marigolds.
really, really, excited.
i was sent away with a "some people have to try out multiple times before getting in"

really, really, excited.

in other news... i've been essentially made an editor of the yearbook, which is beyond wonderful. not only am i an editor, but i will be overseeing the best portion: the minimag. i'm not quite sure for which purpose the minimag was created, but i like to think it was for made especially for the weird (a little too) creative kids that shirk their yearbook responsibilities for the more productive task of going on to dictionary.com and amusing fellow staff members by making a symphony out of the little pronouncer dude saying various silly words... and were thus condemned to write humorous blurbs about things people generally don't care about. and that, my friends, is what i will be doing next year. the writing, that is. i did the symphony thing this year. and got kicked out of the meeting.
i imagine it's kind of like what having my very own column in trapezoid would be like, only it's 16 pages long and it doesn't have any requirements, much less a set in stone deadline.
(watch someone from yearbook find this and decide i'm not 'editor material'.)

tomorrow is valentines day.
i'm still dating that kid.
i asked him to be romantic for valentines day.
he said "murie, do you know who you're dating?"
we're going out for dinner though, which will be nice.
but you know...

alex jones shaved all his lovely hair off and i simply can't deal with it.

that about sums up my life at this moment in time.

oh, and i had a muffin for breakfast.

aalkfjek;lafj

So my fingers literally keep taking me to my blog, without my permission. It is a wonderful surprise that i feel the need to write so.
asdfghjkl;.
This weekend my grandpa turned 90. big fun. also, liam and i have been dating for ten months. thats practically ten years! kinda... i don't know. he's awful nice to me. he also has a lot of facial hair alllll over.
i'm so tired i don't even know what to write.
sometimes i make jokes on here?
has anyone heard of jesse slaughter? damn, i feel so bad for that girl. i mean, shes talking complete shit and sounds a little like an idiot, but she's eleven. her brain has hardly developed. my brain, for that matter has hardly developed. she's completely responsible, but at the same time, she just can't be. i doubt, so much, even if she wasn't getting death threats and didn't have a lot of 'haters' that in ten years she'll look back on those videos and be proud. in ten years, i'll probably either have forgotten this, the world will have ended, or i'll chuckle a little when i realize how limited my view of the world was (is?). not to mention how that will follow her. It will take her years before people stop associating the name 'jesse slaughter' with the emotionally tattered eleven year old screaming profanities into the camera. even after that, if she even tries to be some sort of public figure, it'll be dug up all over again and blown out of proportion again.
well, apparently i had a lot to say about that...
did i tell you that i'm elizabeth proctor in the crucible yet? well yes. i am... anyway. i have to memorize so many things.
also....?
my parents hit a deer? the car is all broked.
rory's girlfriend came over to dinner tonight and first thing my mom asks her is "so, emily, has anyone you know ever run into a deer?"
good stuff, mom.