insanity

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HARRY POTTER!!!! im goin CRAZY hERE!!!! I WANT HARRY!!!!!! And he should like me instead of cho chang cause he's so hot except for the part where he takes his clothes off on television (so i hear) and isnt very hot at all. DANG i even tried to watch this so called 'a very potter musical' on utube last night when i should have been writing my paper and that was just 10 minutes of the life that i want BACK please. Nothing beats the real thing. HARRYYYYY!!!

ghosts and patchwork

SO TELL ME......

if you died, and you could immediately go to the after life, or stay and haunt people, what would you do?? and yes i am judging you by your answer lol.

I would haunt EVERYONE if i died cause MAN i want to know people im alive! so if i die, im comin to see YOU and YOU and YOU and ill be writin 'emily wuz here' in the steam in your bathroom mirror. just get ready for it. And if you could haunt people think of all the people that you ever had the slightest itch to get even with (COUGH COUGH NUSKIN)...think of their faces when its you flickering their fireplace on and off, or slamming all the doors mysteriously at night.OH MAN! or even the people that you know peeing their pants with when you show up hiding in the closet. so entertaining :) im snickerin to myself right now just thinking about it. hehehe

But i think we all need to be remembered. Cause we all want to be loved. I dont care if you admit it or not. You want it.


so lately my sister and I, when we want to have bonding time, we go to jillaynes house. My sister is a sophomore that lives at liberty square with all of the 'just off the mish' boys and sophomore girls. and whenever i tell boys that i have a sister, the response is always
just barely post adolescent boy: 'so wheres your sister live?"
me: liberty
j.b.p.a.b.: I live there too!
me: yeah stay away from my sister. she has bad breath ok. and there's no cure for that.
boy: weird looks.

Ne who jillayne is Dylan's mom, who is my sister's missionary boyfriend. And she is a MAStER quilter. i mean these quilts are pieces of art like you have never seen! not your average triangle patch work quilts here. these have swirling lines of fabric and buttons sewn on top and just QUILT EXPLOSION i call it. yeah im cool. we go there and quilt for like hours. and she makes us amazing spaghetti and homemade rolls and its just so nice to be in a HOME> with a mom. and its not even mine. and it feels so right. The other night over dinner on a saturday night the three of us talked about our childhoods, and our parents, dating, love, forgiveness, our spirituality, our imperfections and how they are just dang comical because none of us are perfect and we are totally content with admitting that......it was one of those conversations that just keeps evolving into itself kind of like the quilts that jillayne makes. It all fits together so naturally and beautifully. We were laughing and tearing up and bustin open. and suddenly i realized that i hadn't had one of those kind of conversations in a LONG.TIME. how did that happen? and sometimes i check my heart and it feels like its goin numb....past feeling. and i go a whole week without feeling moved by ANYTHING. thats not me. ANd this last week i finally went nuts and just cleaned out the closet and stuff had to go. people had to go. I got fired because god kept tellin me to quit and i wouldn't do it myself. Thank God for watchin out for a girl thats blowin free wherever life takes her. SO here we go:

I am strong as hell. stronger than darkness. bring the heat.
i am beautiful
my heart is full. and it is compassionate.
I am deep and full of contributions to this world
I do not need another person to complete me. unless that person is God
I am proud. And i wont back down from how i feel, who I am
I am honest. and genuine.

alot of changes are happinin and im just refinding who the real me is. Something big is being set up in my life. And im rediscovering who is important to me, what i love and not what PEOPLE tell me i love, what makes me feel alive. And i stole back my heart, my compassion, my love. Im not letting anything take that away. especially a job, or a man, or satan. NOTHING. I am more than acceptable. I am extraordinary. And so are you.

my treasure box

Recently i made a necklace for my best friend that i call the "treasure box". Its really beautiful. and i wish that i had taken a picture of it so that i could show you guys. But it had a little crystal that looks like the big mirror that the evil witch looks into on the disney version of snow white. Ya know when she's like "Mirror Mirror on the wall..." and all that jazz. Yeah well it had that, along with a firey orange crystal and a purple pearl hanging from it on a really pretty double stranded chain. And it just reminded me of a treasure box. Especially the clash of the blazing crystal and the smooth pearl. Kind of like the clash within all of us. But which part wins?

today I was reading my friend's note about how she needs to 'move on' from her mission...But i wrote that she should just tuck it away in her heart, and when ever she needs it she can just pull it out and look at it, draw strength from it, remember it. And it reminded me of myself, of my own heart. And of all the little things that are tucked away in there. Its my treasure box and i hide so many things in this box that i hide from the world. Things that i hold dear that im afraid to let go of. LIke the night my first love kissed me. The day I saw my first baptism. The friends that are far from me now. The moments from my childhood that our family didn't feel so broken, and we celebrated just being together. The first time i heard my favorite song. The day I opened my mission call....and how I cried on the front lawn for like an hour that night. My trip to london. The night on my mission after curfew that I thought I might die because my heart was breaking so much, and I looked down and saw the message on the floor from God. The notes that my sister used to write me when I was away at work at Sonic. So many moments in my treasure box. And its times like these that I pull them out and stroke them, remember them like when you find a little memory at the bottom of a drawer, and you just pause and let your mind go to the place that it takes you. And sometimes you don't want to come back. And I try to remember who I was in those moments. And how it was so easy and yet so hard for my heart to love. And it makes me wonder how i could be so confused about who i am. And why I don't want to belong to someone. Because I have God so close to my heart, it seems as if that's all I need. But I think i need more than that. But still no one reaches for the treasure box. Doesn't anyone care whats in there??? . so it lies untouched. And some nights Im too afraid to open it myself. Afraid for the way that my heart beats and the sting i get from reminiscence. Sometimes Im just afraid of the future. Is it ok to admit that? There, I said it. IM AFRIAD. And it makes me latch my heart up tight. Why am i like that? Why does human kind need to pretend complacency to cover up the fact that we CARE about something? Because I do care. I want people to love me, not because the box seems nice. But for whats inside.