See Emily Play

Dear Self from One Year Ago

Hey, you crazy bitch! What’s happenin’? Oh, you’re sleeping all day and crying into your pillow all night? That’s cool. No, I know you’re working, and I know you do things sometimes like watch Golden Girls marathons and go out for sushi. But, girl, all these things that you’re upset about now? It’s nothing, sister, I promise. You’re going to make it through this. You’re going to be ok.

I know it’s hard to believe right now, trust me. I know you feel horrible about yourself, I know you feel completely unlovable and like you’re not in control of your life, and I know you think that you let everybody down and that you’ve disappointed everyone, especially yourself, but you know what? You haven’t. You’re cool. You’re a smart chick, you’ve got a lot of things going for you, and, again, you’re going to be ok.

You’re going to start working more, and you’re going to start fully realizing how awesome your job is and how lucky you are to have it. You’re going to go “hey, I’m getting paid to do something that I’ve loved to do since I learned how to do it. I’m fulfilling a dream that I’ve had for about 15 years.” And that’s pretty damn cool.

You’re going to start working out. I know, I know, “yeah, right, ok,” but really, you are. I know you’ve had a lot of issues with your body and your self esteem, but for real, this is going to make you feel so much better. Like, girl, you’re going to work out so hard that you get sore. From lifting weights. It’s crazy, but it’s true.

You’re going to adopt the most precious little guinea pig that ever was. And I know that you don’t really think of guinea pigs much, but really, you’re going to have the cutest guinea pig, and he is going to be such a little light in your life. He is going to make you smile till your face hurts and warm your heart with his little purrs and squeaks and all those adorable noises. You are going to love him so much that you take pictures of him in bad lighting that you look at about seven times a day.

You are going to meet the most amazing man that you could ever hope to meet and, wait for it, he’s going to be completely in love with you. He’s going to be so funny and sweet and just the most charming thing, and he is going to be so into you. Like, I don’t want you to get cocky or anything, but I just want you to know that you’re finally going to get that wonderful, lovely person, and he loves you to death. He’s going to love you so much that he takes you to see animals and mountains and the planetarium on New Year’s Eve.

He’s going to love you so much that he takes you to see horses.

And he’s going to love you so much that he asks you to marry him. I’m sorry, girl, I don’t have good photos just yet, but just so you know, you say yes. And you’re absolutely thrilled about it.

And, ok, I’m not going to fib and say that there aren’t some shitty parts, because there are. There are a good few shitty parts, and they’re going to make you sad and they’re going to be hard, but the most important thing is that you handle it. You make it through, and I am so proud of you for it.

All right, I know you probably have some episodes of Golden Girls to watch or whatever, so I’m going to wrap it up here. But just remember, no matter what anyone else says, and especially no matter what you say to yourself, you’re a good person. And your going to have a totally kick ass year.

Love,
Your Future Self

Dear Super Hot Guy with the Hillybilly Voice and Homely Guy with the Scottish Accent from College

I know we haven’t spoken in a while.  I know we only ever spoke at all because we had that one class together and we were in the same group.  I know that you have no idea who I am, and that my Facebook friend requests were made in vain.  Despite all of this knowledge, I feel like we could really have something special.

Here’s what I’m proposing: a three-way relationship.  Well, sort of, it wouldn’t be like a traditional three-way relationship.  What I have in mind is that, Super Hot Guy, you will be my boyfriend mainly.  We’ll hold hands and snuggle and make out and go places and stare lovingly into each other’s eyes before we fall asleep in each other’s arms every night.  But here’s where you come in, Homely Guy - you have a way more appealing voice.  So what you would do is stick with me and Super Hot Guy, and the two of you would be trained so that SHG moves his mouth silently in conversation, and you speak for him from the shadows.  Get it?

In outlining this relationship, I came into another problem, which is that neither of you are that skilled at holding good conversation.  To solve this problem, I think that while SHG and I work on our physical relationship, HG can search the area for a smart, funny, interesting guy.  SFIG will whisper or write lines for HG, who will speak them while SHG mouths words.

I hope the two of you realize my sincerity and admiration for you, and that you can consider my proposal and get in touch with me to make arrangements.

Love always, 

Emily

The Top Five Songs I Sing That Make Me Hate Myself

And keep in mind that I sing a lot of songs.  Like, a severe amount.  If the number of songs I sing a day was the number of fingers you had, you’d be like some incredible mutant who was really popular with the ladies (RE: fingerbanging). While some of these songs are original and potentially groundbreaking and some are well-loved classics, some are worthless and make me want to hit myself, which would be pointless (RE: I’m a pussy). These are the latter.

• 5.  ”Baby” by Justin Bieber (actual lyrics sung: “I was like baby, baby, baby, ohhh” times a trillion)
• 4.  ”You’re the Inspiration” by Chicago (actual lyrics sung:  ”When you love somebody, no one needs you more than I need yooooou.  Inspiration!  And I know!”)
• 3.  ”Mandy” by Barry Manilow (actual lyrics sung:  whatever the fuck I want. Barry can’t dictate who came and gave without taking.)
• 2.  ”I Want to Know What Love Is” by Foreigner (actual lyrics sung:  again, the chorus times a trillion.  However long it takes until I force myself to shut up or whoever I’m with gives in and shows me what love is [this has never happened].)
• 1.  ”I Don’t Want to Wait” by Paula Cole* (actual lyrics sung:  all of them.  Every last one.  I start with the “du du de du”s and follow through till the fadeout.  This might not make me want to harm myself if I actually knew the words instead of just the melody and also if the song didn’t conjure up tough memories of my stepdad mumbling at me about his Dawson’s Creek obsession.)

*Fun fact:  the first time, I put Paula Abdul instead of Paula Cole.  How crazy would that song be, Paula Abdul’s “I Don’t Want to Wait?”  So crazy.

Dear Self

Emily, 

Stop it.  Stop.  The world doesn’t hate you, it’s just your uterus.  You don’t need to cry because that cashier wasn’t as polite as she could have been.  It’s not a sign that you need to stop living.  Your parents don’t wish you were never born.  That episode of Buffy wasn’t really the most touching piece of art you’ve ever seen. Your uterus is just trying to prove something.  Just live your life, it’ll be ok.

Love, 

Emily

Jobs I Wish Were Real So I Could Have Them

- Girl Who Studies Serial Killers (not in a creepy way or an overly-psychological way, just in an “I’m just going to hang out and read about all these crazy dudes than talk about it really informally and maybe toss in a few too many inappropriate jokes” way)

 - Professional Onion Peeler (I would get paid obscene amounts to peel onions manually at my own pace)

- Rain Feeler (I would walk around whenever it rained so I could report to local news stations if it was a pleasantly warm rain, a stinging rain, and so on and so forth, and I would also be given access to a dryer and hot chocolate after said walks with no additional fees)

- Break-Up Mix Maker (I would not be strictly limited to this specific kind of mix, quite the contrary:  I would be given a topic or a feeling, then I would go through my music and assemble the most touchingly appropriate songs for a killer mix CD [I would also do tapes if provided with the proper equipment])

- Girl Who Gives Advice Without Any Firsthand Knowledge or Any Reason to Believe That What She’s Saying Is Any Kind Of True (I would do that)

Adventures in Makeup!

So today I decided to do some experimentations in the form of my face.  And I want to record those experiments so that I can always remember how dumb/awesome I am sometimes.

• After searching through my makeup supply, I realized that I had much more theatrical makeup than I thought I did.  I even found some Clown White, and you better believe if I had known I had that I would have been having fun for days.
• Upon realizing I had the Clown White, I made the monumental decision to go ahead and make myself look like I didn’t have any eyebrows.  I covered my brows in white, realized my cream foundation was about three shades lighter than it should be, and ended up with a hot pale mess on my forehead, and I decided I needed some new foundation and some setting powder.
• I went to the local drug store, and after a lengthy chat with the beauty advisor, I learned that Revlon is bullshit, Cover Girl doesn’t believe in cream eyeshadow, and even though I am 22, Cover Girl’s age covering Radiance whatever makes the best setting powder.  I also got a lovely new mascara and teal eyeliner and nail polish.
• Take Two with the eyebrows:  I mixed the lighter foundation with one that was too dark for me, got a nice color, but forgot to wet my eyebrows beforehand so they ended up poking through the makeup and looking totally gross.
• Take Three with the eyebrows:  I finally realized that my eyebrows refuse to be held down and gave up.
• In lieu of no eyebrows, I decided to go with drowning my face in glitter. Upon my eyes I placed a sparkly eyeshadow, a more different sparkly eyeshadow, a shimmering powder, a layer of shimmering bronzer, loose glitter, and a more different loose glitter.  Plus the teal eyeliner and the awesome mascara.  I decided to also use blush (which I hate), and a bright pink lip gloss, because sometimes I like to have fun with my makeup.

Despite the lack of the lack of eyebrows, I had a pretty fun makeup adventure. Then a BFF called and said she was on her way to pick me up, so I just decided to go into public with that.  But omg guyz, new boots and three new hats, best day ever! 

This Is Real Life

Sometimes I like to pretend that I only have partial control over my legs.  The person who has most of the control is not a person at all, but a malevolent robot. He doesn’t want me to get hurt, he just wants to laugh.  Of course, seeing as how I have that little bit of control, sometimes there’s a conflict.  That’s when I end up, say, sliding down a hill on my knees while professors walk by and laugh.

Yeah, this is how I amuse myself.  I should probably get a Gameboy or something.