When a young EFY boy hits on you while you're waiting for your brother to come down from his room in DT, do you?

A) Smile and just hope he'll go away without you having to tell him your age
B) Tell him that you're 22 and could be his mom and watch embarassment come to his baby face
C) Let your mind wander back to the last time you were hit on... never... panic
D) Pretend like you're Deaf
E) Keep trying to show him your wrists and hope he notices that you're not wearing a bright orange EFY band and in the mean time hope he doesn't think you're hinting that you want him to hold your hand

Apparantly I'm 14. Good to know. At least it's better than being 12 like I was a few months ago when a teacher mistook me for a 6th grader and told me to sit down with my class. See? I am growing up! At this time next year I plan to be at least 16! Ooh! I can drive! And date! Nevermind... at this time next year I plan to be 15. Baby steps...

Today I got new glasses. Things like this are always a scary experience for me. Especially when they're a permanent accessory. If you make a bad decision, it haunts you every day for at least the next 5 years until the insurance company decides you've suffered enough and allows you to get a new pair. For a lot of people I guess it's not a big deal. They know what's cool. They know what looks good. And they walk away knowing they've made the right decision and that nobody will be pointing and laughing and whispering behind their back, "What was she thinking? It's bad enough the dork's in glasses but did she have to make it that painful for the rest of us to look at?"

Standing in front of the numerous choices I was in a state of panic. I kept thinking, "I wish Liz or Kat were here... I wish Liz or Kat were here... d'oh!" And then a glimmer of hope came. Liz and Kat had mentioned something about what kind of glasses they thought would look good on me a few weeks ago. What did they say again? Black trim with the wing-like things on the sides. Right? Man, I hope they weren't being sarcastic. Because that's what I'm going for...

And that's what I got. They come in on Tuesday then Mom and Dad will mail them to me. I'm terrified. I know I messed it up. I have no sense of fashion. No, no. Man... I wish Liz or Kat had been there...

Today was grab Caitlyn and Kyle day. I took the poodies swimming and then took them to see "Finding Nemo." Finally! I've been waiting to see that movie for forever. But nobody would take me. I can't believe I had to wait for a 5 and an 8 year old to take me. You people are pathetic. It was a great movie. I knew it would be. I love it when I'm right.

I spent the day with four of my babies at the zoo. It was a great day. It was spent wandering from one animal exhibit to the next, carrying children, pushing/pulling children along, seperating children, feeding children and teaching children. My dad got a taste grandparenthood (I know that's not a word but it should be) and my brother and his friend stepped up to the challenge with a smile. They may think I'm crazy, but I was in heaven. We all had a great time. The oohs and awes from the kids made me happier than the baby tigers, which are my favorite. And I couldn't help but spoil them a bit. I love my babies. They just make me happy. That's all.

Renton. Wow. It's definitely weird being back. Kind of a Twin Peaks experience. I went to my home ward yesterday. Sacrament meeting was crazy. The chapel was full which was definitely cool and it looked like a lot of people who were inactive back in the day have come back. There were also a lot of babies. Quite a few of them had mothers that I went to nursery and primary with. Most younger than me. It was so odd to watch them as they had to take their crying babies out, or feed them or do other mommish things. For the last two hours I was asked to go into the nursery. Not because they knew I'd cry if I didn't get snack and a nap time but because there were over a dozen infants in there and only one teacher. I had a great time in there, of course. At one point I was sitting on the floor while four or five of them poked me until I made some kind of sound, they'd all run away giggling and then come back and jump on me again. That was fun. Felt like I was in Provo again.

I spent most of yesterday afternoon visiting friends. I had to stop after the third house though because I was recognizing a theme. Before I left I had to eat something. Usually a lot of something. And one more house may have made me explode into only spatterings of Emily... and then where would we be?

I'm actually kind of thinking about sticking around. It seems that the end-of-summer plans may have changed and there's a lot of work to do here. More than I bargained for I guess. At least it's pretty here, though. Gorgeous really. I can't get over it. Wish you were here.

Hi. I'm in Renton. Little Renton. It took me only about thirteen hours to get here and got great satisfaction out of beating MapQuest's prediction of 14.5 hrs. I won the race. I'm the champion. I got the added bonus of going through the pass right at sunset. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and as peaceful as it was driving through it alone, I really wished my friends could have been there to share it with me. It really is gorgeous here. I forgot. It's green and nice. The roads are curvy and hilly. People come in all colors and there are Starbucks on every corner. Gosh, I love Seattle!

I pulled in around 9:30 and drove right to the Faerbers where I played with my babies for a while. Then Sarah called and I went over to Lunsfords and chatted with them before forcing myself to go to my parents' house. The parents were mad because they had figured out that home wasn't my first stop and mom was pretending to sleep when I got there. Then I went in her room, she jumped out of bed, threw a puppy in my arms and said, "Finally! You meet your new sister! What do you think?" Fact is though... she's really cute. And she's sassy. I like her.

So far so good. But "one of these days I'm just gonna snap..." Hehehe!

My Score was 44. "Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out."

Good ol' Dr. Phil may have completely missed the mark with me but maybe he'll be more accurate with you. What did he say?

A few of us want to go see a movie and I'm told to figure out what time it's playing. The times aren't posted on the internet so I begin the constant redialing of Movies 8.
Call the number... busy...
redial... busy...
redial... busy...
redial... busy...
"Man, this stinks."
Phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Daniel. Are you guys still going to see Pirates?"
"Uh, I dunno. No, I don't think so. I think Holes? Or something? Kat knows. She'll call you back."
"Okay..."
"Bye."
Click.

"Hey, Kat! Call Dan back and tell him what we're doing."
"But you know what we're doing. Just tell him we're not sure and to just come over."
"I already hung up. You do it."
"Fine."
Kat calls Dan and tells him to come over.

"Em, have you gotten through to the theater? What's playing?"
"I dunno, I haven't gotten through yet."
"Well, keep trying."
"Okay."

Redial... ring... ring...
"Cool! I got through!"
"Hello?"
"Hi! What's playing?"
"What?"
"Your not listed on the internet today. What time is Holes playing?"
"I don't know."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know when it's playing? Do you even have Holes right now?"
"Uh... huh?"
"Wait a minute... is this Daniel?"
"Ya."
"Hehehehe!!! I'm sorry! I forgot Kat called you and I just hit redial again thinking I was getting the theater! Hahahaha!"
"Uh... okay... so I'm still coming over?"
"Ya, see you in a bit."

Kat comes in laughing having heard my mistake.
"See, that's funny?"
"Ya, I know. I'm not smart."
"No, the fact that you admitted to him what you did!"
"Huh?"
"He didn't know who you were. I would have just hung up."
"Oh. That would have made sense."
"Hahahaha! But not you! You just admit when you're stupid!"
"Hehehe!"

And it's true. I do admit when I'm stupid. I don't know why. Like last night, I was writing love notes at the bar in the rec room. I turned around and started walking without looking and ran headlong right into the support beam. There were three people sitting right next to it facing me but they all happened to be looking away when it happened. Two people at the table a few feet away had missed it too. And Caroline had her back turned to me. I started laughing and people looked up. "Haha! I just... nevermind." Nobody saw it! Just keep quiet. I walk and put the love notes away. I can't help it, though! Running into a pole is funny! What's the point of smacking into a beam when the only one laughing is you? I gotta tell! "Caroline! Hey, Caroline! Guess what I just did? I can't believe you missed it but I just turned around and smacked right into that pole! Hahaha!" It's like a disease.

I wish I had some fun or interesting story to post. Something to make you laugh. But I don't. All I can think about is the remaining two days in Provo and the fourteen hour trip that's ahead. All of which will be spent alone. Which, is probably not a good thing. Because now that time will most likely be spent thinking about what will happen after the fourteen hours are through and I've stopped my car in the ghetto of Renton, WA. I wish I had a funny story to tell you. But I don't. Pathetic, I know. It's a good thing that I have such good friends that I'll get to see up there. And then my loves back here to make me happy when I get back. I love you!

Wow! They really have Blogathons. Who knew?

I used to whine to my grandma because I had so many chores when my siblings didn't have any. My grandma used to smile and tell me in her "I'm so proud of you" voice that the reason that my parents made me do so much stuff was because I did it.

This confused me to no end. So, it was a good thing that my parents gave me more stuff to do? This was something to be proud of? Okay. But wait, is there another option? Don't I HAVE to do what they tell me to? How was my sister getting away with this?

Wait a minute! Hmmm... maybe I could NOT do what they tell me to do and then they'd stop asking me to do things. I'm a genius!

But do you know what? That plan failed. And do you know why? Because they got mad at me. Apparantly parents don't like it when their kids don't do what they say, especially when they're used to them doing it. And I don't like it when people are mad at me. So I did what they said. And they gave me even more stuff to do. And I did that too. Because I wanted them to like me. But they don't. Still. It kind of makes me want to go back and say, "NO! Pick up your own damn mess! I'm going outside to play!" Because that would have been a whole lot more fun than scrubbing walls and fetching odd things for my mother. But not nearly as fun for them. And that's what really matters. Wait, what was my point? I don't know. But I'll bet it was good.

Next week I leave to go home for a while. I'll have to leave my Kat, Liz, Maggie and Lisa behind. But I'm taking my happy place with me. I'm sure I'll be fine because I may wobble but I don't fall down... okay so I do. But who's keeping a tally, really? Those bruises could be from anything! Maybe I'm really athletic! Hey! Don't laugh... hehehe...

:::Pet Peeve:::
Typing up a cool blog with lots of fun links that took me forever to find and then having my computer freeze and losing it all.

Bummer...

I guess the world will never know.

Emily, Emmy, Emmaloo, Emmy Lou, Emmy Lou Pooh, Ems, Emmers, Emiweewee, Emiwee, The Big 'E', Emily Ann, Miss Emily, Em'ly, Em, Emerson, Embrodak, Emtarkanderundersgunderson, Emnanana...na...

I've sent out my resume every where. I just don't get it. Just because I don't have any skills... or experience... or an applicable degree... I mean, is that any reason not to give me lots of money with great benefits and vacation time? What's the deal??

Sigh. The fourth of July. Such warm memories. Kind of. I mean, it usually rained a bit and we had our BBQ inside or under the patio's roof. And I spent the majority of the day cooking and cleaning. But it was good. And I'll tell you why. I had a very drunk and very crazy "neighbor" guy. Our next door neighbor was Keith's ex-wife. Yet, Keith spent all day every day over there. His old cars he was working on were still in the driveway, the garage was still filled with his tools and other stuff. His ex-wife still supported him from what I could tell. He just wandered around with his shirt off and his tan beer belly hanging out (which was decorated with scars from his heart surgeries). But Keith was my favorite neighbor. He'd tote me around like I was some kind of precious prize. He'd come over and kidnap me or temp me out with his Chocolate Charleston Chews, "Psst! Emmaloo! I've got some Charleston Chews here for ya! Think you can get away? Put your swimsuit on and see if you can get away from that mother of yours for some fireworks and a diving lesson!" Then he'd let me take my pick of his huge stash of fireworks. Each year he'd go to several Indian Reservations and spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars on the best of the illegal fireworks. For weeks before the holiday, he'd set them off. Before I was in kindergarten, he taught me the art of lighting a firecracker bigger than I was without losing a hand. I felt like the Karate Kid with Mr. Miagi. Learning from a master... who was drunk. I loved spending time with my Keith. He'd keep me pumped with Charleston Chews and would try to bribe me to blow up our neighbors' mailboxes with cherry bombs. We'd laugh together at the loud cracks and bright sparks and as we accidentally set something on fire. Then, on the night of the 4th, Keith would put on the neighborhood fireworks show. And it was GREAT! The show would go on for an hour or two with the fireworks getting bigger and bigger (and more and more illegal). Everybody loved Keith and the other neighborhood kids who made fun of me all year would watch with envy as Keith let me set of the biggest fireworks. That was my tradition for about my first sixteen years.

Around that time, Keith's drinking had gotten worse and he got a bit more sloppy with his firework skills. One year he bought this huge rolled-up firework from an Indian Reservation. He was supposed to roll it out and light one end and it would make loud pops as the fire went down the line. But Keith was too drunk to figure out how to unroll it. So he just set it in the street and set it on fire. It sounded as if a bomb went off and red confetti of fire sprayed everywhere. Our tree, which was on that corner caught fire. The neighbors ran frantically to get hoses to put the fire out. Keith layed down in the street and laughed at the falling pieces. "Did you see that Emmaloo?" "Ya, could have taken out quite a few mailboxes with that one." "Hehehe... ya..." That was the last time we had the fireworks show.

So time for new tradition. Today I slept in as much as I could with the parade outside my window. In a minute I'll start cleaning my room and straightening the apartment. Around 5pm Lisa will be back and then I'll follow Kat, Lisa and Liz to wherever they want to go. I'll leave the firework lighting to the professionals and sit back with some friends. Life is good. But I do miss Keith, his Charleston Chews and his endless supply of illegal fireworks.

According to Gary Chapman, there are Five Languages of Love. They are...
1 - Words of Affirmation
2 - Quality Time
3 - Receiving Gifts
4 - Acts of Service and
5 - Physical Touch.
For me, I'm pretty sure that my Love Language is quality time. I love nice words, great hugs, random acts of service and the occasional gift as much as the next girl, but when somebody wants to spend time with me... that's when I know they care. Wanting to be around me equals loving me. I know this is my love language because if I don't get the other four things, I can easily write it off. But if they don't spend time with me, I take it personally... quick. I'm overly sensitive about it. A freak kind of. "What? You don't want to hang out? You're moving out? You haven't visited me in days! You must hate me! There's something wrong with me. You say you love me but you must not mean it if you can't stand to be around me." A little over the top, I realize. And it's really not as bad as I say it is. But quality time really is important to me. Which is funny because I think I might express love differently... but I don't know... maybe I should actually read the book...

So, I guess I'm going home. My mom asked for immediate action, but I held her off until the 16th so that I'd be here for Lisa's birthday. When I agreed to give up Girls' Camp to be there for the fam, she cried and said that she had been praying for that and that it was proof that God heard her prayers. Funny, I had been praying that I'd get to go to Girls' Camp. But God can't grant eastbound wind for the hot-air ballon and westbound wind for the sailboat at the same time. Something's gotta give. And this time I'm the giver.
But I'm actually not all that upset about giving up my week with the youth as I am about spending so much time away from my friends down here. Besides, Washington is so brown and ugly I wish I were dead. Wait, not Washington... Utah. And not me... you.

I love it when I'm right. But I love it less when I have to face the "Big Bad" to prove that I'm right. Was it worth it? Probably not. No.

Yes, today I went to the doctor. He did what it is that doctors do. (It really wasn't so bad.) And he told me exactly what was wrong... not so much an ear infection as an inflamed something or other. And even better? There isn't much he can do. He guesses I just had some bad virus back around the time it turned up, which was early April when I was working in an elementary school and was constantly sick with one thing or another, and it will just have to clear up on its own. So he gave me a name of some vitamin or herb or something and told me to start searching in health food stores to see if they carry it because it might speed up the healing process then told me he was sorry that I was in pain and then sent me on my way.

So, it turns out that a doctor visit wasn't necessary at all, I wasn't being neglectful by not going earlier and I didn't miss out on any miracle cure. I was right. I braved a doctor visit and didn't even get a lollipop... or more importantly, drugs.

Road trips make me happy. Going on road trips with Liz and Kat make me happy. Visiting Heather makes me happy. From Justin to Kelly makes me happy (in a twisted sort of way). Reading the new Harry Potter book on the beach in the sun makes me happy. Making sand castles makes me happy. Eating ice cream makes me happy. Apples to Apples makes me happy. Driving to Anaheim through fire while exchanging life stories makes me happy. Disneyland makes me happy. Spending a whole day with Liz and Kat in my happy place makes me happy. Fireworks make me happy. Coming back to my Villa friends makes me happy.

I'm happy. Really happy. Real happiness. Real. Really real. Really happy. Real.

Movie Ticket: $9.75
Costs of making 'From Justin to Kelly': a lot
Laughing with Heather, Liz and Kat as we watch fate at its best: Priceless

Disneyland Entrance: $47
Disneyland Coke: $2.75
Falling in love with Liz and Kat all over again: Priceless