Entropy in Motion

This is a phrase I rarely say.

God Damnit.

I hate to take the lord's name in vain. In fact, I cringe when other people do it.

I try not to let on, but it's a fact.

Tonight, I had no choice.

A group of gentlemen are on my front porch right now. I use the term gentlemen loosely. What I really mean are sleazes.

Why are they there, Emma?

Because Hillary is a God Damn fool.

What did she do, Emma?

She invited these fucking creeps to walk us to my house. Creeps at my house. She led them on, essentially. Now, me and Ian are chilling on the couch listening to these dicks on our front porch talking about how pissed they are that they got no pussy.

I was a bitch to these men the moment they started talking to me. I gave not a fucking glimpse of "I'd like to invite you to fuck me" to these men. I was a huge bitch. There's no way they could have taken any of my signals as "ooh, baby, fuck me." Just saying. Hillary is retarded.

I am never going out again.

I don't know how well you guys know me, but I am full of social anxiety. Before I went out to go dancing at club echo, I was having shakes attacks and hyperventilating. I was going out. I don't go out. I was freaking out. Hillary and Kristina (new room mate) had picked out a dress for me. I was wearing my pink, strapless, amy brown fairy dress. I was nervous just about wearing that dress. Anyways, to calm down, I did a bit of pregaming whilst both Ian and Kris Peraldo told me not to go dancing. It was making me freak out. They were concerned. They're good people, Ian and Peraldo.

But I went anyway.

I have to go, I kept insisting, I have zero social life. How am I supposed to meet people if I don't put myself out there?

So, I went, I danced. For most of the night, I had a good time. Four H camp taught me to dance. I like it pretty well. I wiggled my ass. I danced.... never with anybody in particular... but that would have made me uncomfortable.

Hillary's friend, Kendra, made out with some gent I didn't know. Said gent had a friend who was shy. I'm shy. We talked. he bought me a drink. He seemed very nice. I gave him my phone number. Never in my life has a man asked for my phone number. I felt pretty good about it. We talked for awhile about geeky things. He had to leave. While I was chatting with him for like the sixth time, Hillary was dancing with this kid. Hillary stopped dancing when my new friend left, and came to talk to me. then, this wingman comes up and says "You broke my friend's heart" to hillary.

They talk. I act cold. I am the cunt, cock blocking best friend of the drunk woman. Every thing that is said, I have something cold to reply with. I was a huge bitch.

Wingman convinced Hillary to dance with her man again.

Then, he turned on me. He pulled at me, he tugged at me. Please dance with me. I don't dance. You're breaking my heart. Maybe you should find someone who cares. That's cold. What can I say? I'm a fucking bitch.

This guy was relentless.

Eventually, I dance with him, but only because his friend dragged me from the wall. It wasn't bad, until he tried to get handsy. Then, I walked away, clearly pissed.

Hillary thought, whilst I was away, it was a good idea to invite these gents (who tag team touched me inappropriately despite uber negative feedback) to walk us home.

During the walk, I walked ahead of everyone else. Five guys all together. They kept calling me "Chucks" because I wore my chuck taylors. Why do you wear those chucks, they asked, with such a pretty dress.

So I can run away from creeps like you.

Now, if I spoke like this the whole time I was with these gents, and, I definitely did, would you still want to fuck me? I mean, honestly. Five guys, all wanting to fuck me and hillary. If one of us (me) was a huge dick, would you still wanna bone us?

I wouldn't.... but these mens were apparently idiots.

We reached my house.

I'm going to bed, I told them.

Won't you let us in from the rain.

I'll let you on the porch.

Bring us towels.

I'll bring you each a paper towel.

And, I did.

I also got Ian, who was nearly as pissed as I was.

So, I'm acting cold, I'm acting bitchy. It's dawning on these ass holes that I ain't gonna fuck 'em, and I ain't gonna let Hillary fuck them.

Hillary is drunk. Hillary is stupid. These dicks sit on our front porch bitching about getting no pussy. They're angry. They're mad.

Kendra calls. She's crying. She's lost. I drive to get her. Her, and her brother and this other girl Amber, she's cool, she's sober. They hop in my car, I drive to my place.

But this point I am pissed the fuck off.

I yell "get in the god damn car" to Hillary. I drive her and friends to her apartment.

I left Ian alone with the drunken assholes. This was a mistake. He didn't get his ass beat or anything, but he could have. Live and learn.

Hillary stood out side of her apartment in the rain. "I'm so sorry , Emma."

"They're not at your house."

And then, I left.

"Gentlemen," I said, all smiles once returning to the house, "Thank you kindly for walking my friend and I home. I wish you all a good night."

They bitched at me. I kept saying, "Good night, gentlemen." Ian was already back inside. Locked and bolted the door. They're still outside my apartment.

God Damnit.

I'm never going out again.

I hope we don't get our house broken into and stolen from because Hillary is a dumb ass.

Here's a rough draft of an article I'm planning on sending in to Monster Clutter. If you like, suggest some constructive criticism... because... as we all know..... I am by no means a decent writer. Like... if something sounds too sciencey and is not explained well enough for you, tell me and I'll think up a way to reexplain it.

If it's well-received (i.e. if it actually gets in), I may write more.

And... I may draw random art stuff to go with this depending on what Angelo and Derek think..... because I don't want to draw anything if it doesn't get in.

----------------------------------------------
( SCIENCE! )


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After reading through this, again... I've decided I could probably have my own science kids show.

God, that would be awesome.

And I feel, I guess, reasonably serene about it.

He basically begged for it--very indirectly. I'm sure Empa and Morgan have similar feelings about all this.

Now I won't worry about him like I did.

I won't know how he's doing, so in my mind he is happy. In my mind he is going to Washington. In my mind he is thinking up wonderful theories on physics and making music as he said he wanted to do. In my mind he finds a new group of friends worth confining in. Friends he can't just rub off. In my mind he is happy.

So, I've unchecked him. Just as he requested. I'm not angry or anything. Just sort of empty about it.

By God's grace, I'll never see him again.

Ehhhhh. So I'm tired of being here. I'm tired of exams. I'm tired of bull shit. I'm tired of worrying who cares about me and who puts on some kind of act. I'm tired of lies. Good thing I'm leaving tomorrow. Don't worry. I'll miss it in less than a week.

I had probably the most wonderful day dream possible last night. I was trying my best to avoid studying, I guess.

I imagined the possibilities for New Years. I'm coming back to Huntington to visit Amanda. (Love her). And good things happen.

Isn't it strange I day dream about random good things? Not even what normal people day dream. (I.E. no random acts of sex with gents I know). No, I smile and I laugh with the people I enjoy spending time with. We toast the good times. I just think about what would happen if my life went right for once, I guess.

Eh. So I'm going to flip a coin. Heads, I tell him, Tails, I don't. I'll wait for the most opportune moment. (Which may never happen)

Besides, I may be out of in likeness soon anyway.

I love being fickle. It makes this loneliness completely less painful then it was when I was a one-crush show.

And that's probably sad.

But it's the way I am, and if I couldn't accept that, I don't know what I would be.

I'm trying not to think about Chemistry. It's not really working.

I drew a robot on TegakiE yesterday. It was the speediest, lamest piece of art I've ever drawn.... and it got the most comments of anything I've ever done.

That makes me sad.

Maybe I should just draw robots whenever I want people to talk to me.

By the way, because I don't say it enough:

I totally disagree with blood nexus.

Please don't tell me about your escapades beating the shit out of your friends.

Enjoy your day!



Alsoooooo, I'm great at not doing mah work!

I slammed my finger in the bathroom door.

I screamed loud obscenities.

I'm a real lady.

I've started the designs for my first dress in my head. I'd really like to make it. It's cool as hell.

... in my head anyway.

-EDIT-

So, I can never find a fucking corset that fits me.

THE ANSWER?

Make my own.

Let's see if I can. ^^

I've got three tests left: Japanese, Psychology (of Adjustment) and Anthropology. The former two are on Monday and the latter is on Tuesday. I'm leaving the moment  my Antrho test is over. Y'see, I'd like to get back home in time to pick up my sister and attend the 4-H Christmas party. I'd like to pick up my sister because I know my parents won't do it until like six that night. (I'd pick up my brother too, but he apparently has a doctor's appointment). I'd like to go to the 4-H thing because I love those people more than any of you (accept probably Chelsey) could understand.

Over break, I'm working a little for my Mother. Her office is a mess and she needs somebody to file stuff. The firm will pay me for my work. It's minimum wage, but at least I'll be doing something.

My dad has coerced me into buying my uncle a Marshall hat. Pop will pay me back, he says, I think I'm going to ask him to buy me some watch parts on e-bay for payment. Then I'll have itsy bitsy gears to play with in my boredest moment.... and I will be bored.

My siblings start thier break on Christmas eve. I haven't decided what we're doing yet, but we are going to do shit. Hopefully it snows.... or the lake freezes over. I'd love for the lake to freeze over again. That was so much fun.

I wonder what kind of junk I'll get for Christmas. I asked for comic books. I miss comic books.

I also asked for a pocket watch. I had one when I was fifth grade. It was the longest lasting of all my watches. I wore it through ninth grade in high school before it died.

Mum says they're kind of expensive, so I won't be overly sad if I don't get one.

Eh. Well, I'm going to take a shower and start the boring process of studying for my Japanese final. I should do well on it. It's probably the only class I'll get an A in.

I need to steal a silver spoon for Potter to make into a ring. Potter is so fucking cool.

I've decided the steampunk fashion is completely under appreciated, And so, I plan to obsess over steampunk fashion and jewelery over break if possible. I already have some cool ideas for jewelery. Lets hope it works.

I'll start out by buying a mass of watch pieces. Then I will sew gears into certain pieces of clothing. Some I will make into earrings, or necklaces.

I'm really excited as feck.

Whaaaaaat is it?

Quothe SteamPunk Magazine:

"Steampunk is a re-envisioning of the past with the hypertechnological perceptions of the present. Unfortunately, most so-called “steampunk” is simply dressed-up, recreationary nostalgia: the stifling tea-rooms of Victorian imperialists and faded maps of colonial hubris. This kind of sepia-toned yesteryear is more appropriate for Disney and suburban grandparents than it is for a vibrant and viable philosophy or culture.
First and foremost, steampunk is a non-luddite critique of technology. It rejects the ultra-hip dystopia of the cyberpunks—black rain and nihilistic posturing—while simultaneously forfeiting the “noble savage” fantasy of the pre-technological era. It revels in the concrete reality of technology instead of the over-analytical abstractness of cybernetics. Steam technology is the difference between the nerd and the mad scientist; steampunk machines are real, breathing, coughing, struggling and rumbling parts of the world. They are not the airy intellectual fairies of algorithmic mathematics but the hulking manifestations of muscle and mind, the progeny of sweat, blood, tears and delusions. The technology of steampunk is natural; it moves, lives, ages and even dies.
Steampunk, that mad scientist, refuses to be fenced in by the ever-growing cages of specialization. Leonardo DaVinci is the steampunker touchstone; a blurring of lines between engineering and art, rendering fashion and function mutually dependent. Authentic steampunk seeks to take the levers of technology from those technocrats who drain it of both its artistic and real qualities, who turn the living monsters of technology into the simpering servants of meaningless commodity.
by the Catastrophone Orchestra and Arts Collective (NYC)
Colonizing the Past so we can Dream the Future
What then, is Steampunk?
We stand with the traitors of the past as we hatch impossible treasons against our present"

I like that they compare it to a mad scientist.... which I think is the reason I am so in love with the idea.

If you are interested, here is a link to the Steampunk's survival to teh Apocalypse Handbook.

So.... I think I've failed Organic Chemistry.

And I have this feeling of utter emptiness.

What am I going to do?

Debating over killing myself now, or waiting 'til I get the results.

(I'm speaking figuratively, of course. By "Kill myself" I really mean.... tell my self over and over and over how worthless I am.
I don't want you guys to get confused over this. I won't literally off myself.)

Chemistry test at nine this morning. Freaking the fuck out.

I'll survive, I hope.

I'm fairly anxious to just end it.

( Phase 1 of THE PLAN: Removing that which upsets or saddens me )

Being hopeful again.

This could be a mistake.

It probably is a mistake.


I'm still reasonably sad, but at least I have formulated a reasonably decent plan to get out of it.

It's the best plan, really. I'm going to follow it.

Damn, I love having logic on my team.

Every Christmas morning, my brother, sister and I wake up before anybody else in the house. (Excluding possibly our Grandfather). Next, we pound on the door to whatever room our parents are sleeping in. They tell us to leave them the fuck alone. Then we ask if we can go down and see our presents. ("Santa" doesn't wrap shit for us.) They say no.

So we spend the next couple of hours sitting on the steps where we can't see the presents exactly, but if we lean forward enough we come close.

This is my favorite tradition, because at nineteen years old, I'm probably still going to do it.

( the usual... )




I've decided you can tell a lot about a person by their favorite character in the Wizard of Oz.

Take my favorite character, the scarecrow. I treasure knowledge above most everything else. I logically go about solving my problems (though I sometimes lack common sense). I would do anything for my friends, and sometimes find myself getting hurt because of it. ("Dorothy, if you're hungry, you can eat my straw.... as long as you leave my legs so that I may walk." "I'll get you apples, but these trees will end up throwing stuff at me." "Sure, I'll test the jagged landscape guys, and get torn up by mistake." "Why yes, friends, I think I will go first with the lion into the swift river and get torn away by the current"). I'm alsooooo clumsy as fuck.

Someone who enjoys the tinman is obviously a hopeless romantic. Sometimes making rash decisions without fully consulting the consequences (like crying while fully knowing you will rust, or killing a cat with your axe to save a bunch of vermon-mice).

The Cowardly Lion's fans believe bravery and chivalry are important beyond all else. They care for thier friends, but will only take action to do something when truly pressured. They're mildly manipulative when you first meet, but less so as you get to know them. (They'll give off the image of being a bully, or strong when really they're just a big sorty at heart).

If you like Dorothy, you have a "Grass is Greener" complex, and, although you dream about change, you wouldn't be happier anywhere else but your own element. You're kinda single minded, once a goal is set forth.


I could go further, but I don't really care to.

So tell me, friends, which Wizard of Oz character do you like best? And--do you think what I've said is true? Can you expand on what I've written?

Just curious.

Love, emma.

I think I'm in a temporal loop. I mean... not literally.... I'm not experiencing Ground Hog Day. No, I've just been down a lot, and for the same reasons every time.

A smart person would take these reasons out of her life.

I think I'll try.

So, I'm not going to hang out with the people who make me uncomfortable if I can.

I'm not going to worry about how dim my future looks.

I'm not going to think about how fucking lonely I am.


So award for the most entries in one day ever goes to Emma H. Gardner!

YAAAAAAAAAY!

I'm off to see the wizard--The wonderful wizard of Oz.

I had forgotten I was seeing it, and now I'm fairly excited.

It's the perfect thing to put my horrible Chemistry failure out of my mind. 

Hopefully, anyway.

Man! I love everything about the Wizard of Oz. When I was a kid, they were my favorite books.


So, an interesting thing happened to me. Alright, it's not interesting, and I'm certain there are some of you to whom this occurs regularly. But, for me.... it was kinda special.... in a.... strange kinda way.

I went to go get dinner with Erica, and this gent started talking to us. I didn't know him. Erica didn't know him. We had a completely casual conversation. It wasn't just two sentences either. It was most strange.

I told Erica he was flirting with her.
She said he was mainly speaking to me.

I have no sense of anything. ALAS!


Yeah. Uplift!

WIZARD OF OZ!

( Feeling super low. )

Time for a break down, childrens.

I've just always wanted to make that a subject line.

Ummmm. Feeling better. I'm still an outcast among my own friends, but I think that's a feeling I'm always going to have.

Amanda Hackney is probably my favorite person on the planet who shares none of my genetics.

Even thought I had to take the time to untag several pictures she tagged me in.

I saw Chelsey did the same. Ha.

Probably my sister will see some, and that's always fun.

Anyhow..... life.

I go to get my Chemistry test here momentarily. Fuck.

I woke up late for class (as I often do) and found my self rushing down the stairs five minutes 'til my 9:00 speech class. As I ran by the mailboxes of Twin Towers West, I spied a piece of paper in the 512 box--A letter! Finally! Someone has written me back! I thought, excitedly as I rushed on by already late for my class. I spent the two hours in my Smith Hall prison of learning, barely going ten minutes without my mind returning to that unopened letter in my mail box. Oh frabjous day! Callou, Callay! I have a letter! Somebody wrote me a letter! I kept thinking, barely able to focus on reviewing for exams, too young and innocent to know the truth.

They say the bliss of childhood goes away when your ignorance diminishes. I'm rather sad to say that very statement proved truthful.

For, as I opened my mail box, allowing light inside, the words "Comcast. Visit us on the web" were illuminated. The Comcast logo mockingly feigning a smile next to the C. It was smirking at me, I could feel. I still clung to the idea that somebody had hand written me a letter. Maybe they ran out of envelopes-- half-hearted thoughts as I turned the envelope over. Nope, it's my monthly reminder from the school's cable provider that I do indeed have cable.



Little disappointments like that remind me why I tend to stay depressed more oft than naught.

(Edit) Only Chelsey, Devin and I went to our usual MWF lunch today. I'm rather devastated no one else thought to grace us with their presence. This is the last meal of the semester. I can't tell if they're mad at us or what. Some how, though, through it all I can't help but feel it is somehow my fault. This is probably irrational, but I really don't see why else someone would blow off the last chance to see so many friends at one time at one place.
If Morgan hadn't called to invite me to lunch with him (Alas! We were both already elsewheres), I'm fairly certain I'd be full on miserable about life.
I miss Emma/Chelsey/Devin time. What happened to it? Chelsey and Devin still go on walks. What do I do? Very little.

little disappointments can add up, apperently.

(Edit again)
If you see me today, compliment me on my blouse, damnit. I wore it for the pick-me-up of people complimenting me and nobody has said a thing.

Maybe I just don't look as nice as I think I do. Still.

Lie to  me.

If I'm wearing something out of character, I'm fishing for compliments or I'm out of laundry.

Today I could use a compliment.

I sure am lucky to be the opposite of psychologically sound. It makes writing this paper easier.

I wonder what it's like to have a nick name.

Japanese is the only class I'm going to get an A in.

Maybe Psch.... but I sincerely doubt it.

I tore the fuck out of the pads of my feet. Haven't done that in a good long while.

I'd probably die for a stranger on the street if it meant I saved their life. So, I'd definitely die for you, dear reader, seeing as you are neither a stranger nor on the street.

I can't cross my eyes and touch my fingertips together at the same time.

I may go off next time I see extreme PDA. Or leave the area. The latter seems more like a me move.

Comparing this year to last year is strange. The people I hang out with on a daily basis is different. The way I feel from day to day is different. I dreaded break. It's just interesting.

A good half of my problems should evaporate when I move in with Amanda, I think.
I'll be eating real food.
I won't have hours and hours of extreme alone time.... because I'll have pets and Amanda for company.
I'll have a dog.
I'll be exercising (biking to school every day).
I'll have a bathroom that I can leave my shampoo in.

Life should be good.

I think Kyle, Josh and I are possibly going to be like old times for a week during winter break. I also hope the Gardners and Hambricks can have a super lame baby Christmas party involving cookie baking, and a Muppet Christmas Carol. Just sayin'.

I'm going to cut my hair at the end of next semester, hopefully.

I need to sew my coat up.

I really need a cuppa. Damnit.