The only excuse for making a useless thing
is that one enjoys it immensely;
All art is useless.

Thursday, May 29, 2008


Is it bad when you run out of ways to describe how much you like something that you really do like? If you can only say "Oh, that's cute." and not even make it sound like you really mean it? Lately I've been feeling like a blob with very few emotions, and when I do have them, they're over exaggerated in an almost false way. As if I'm trying to make up for something. And I've been saying "hahaha" and "lol" and ":)" so many times in my emails that it looks like I'm some sort of monotonous laughing monster. All of the pictures taken of me show my face with an extreme lack of emotion, my expression looking so empty I almost look angry. It's true that they aren't bad picture, but what happened to my constantly cheery, chubby face? My consistent grin? Last year Alex Graham made fun of me for being so happy all the time, and Emily scolded me for being non-stop positive. This year Alex accused "Erin, you're always sad." and I didn't really talk to Emily, so she didn't say anything. I'm not a sad person, but it seems that my smiles are becoming more and more scarce. Or maybe I'm just overreacting.


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Sunday, May 18, 2008


There are times when I want to describe my happenings with big, pretty words and artistic views. There are other times when I just want to scream and jump around manically, giggling like a kid who's had his first shot of mountain dew. Today is one of the maniac times. OHHHHHHHH MY GOSH. I THINK ZACH ACTUALLY LIKES MEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
How do I know? Wellllll, seeing as I'm leaving to Korea this Thursday, I had a goodbye party yesterday and invited Zach (along with my gal pals, but-no offense to them-they don't matter in this post). When I sent him the message to ask if he wanted to come, he replied asking "when is it? I neeeeeeeeeeeeed to come!!" or something along those lines. He came with Alex, and it was all fantastic. I talked to mostly them, seeing as they didn't know anyone besides Anna and me at the party, and we had a lot of laughs. Blah blah. When his mom and dad came to pick him and Alex up, I was planning on hugging him, but I couldn't get myself to, hence my last post. After the laste person (Celina) had left, I sent him a message just saying "Thanks for coming", and "it was fun", and "I'll keep in touch with you while I'm gone". He replied with "are you kidding that was SO MUCH FUN !!!!!!! btw i felt really awkward when i was saying goodbye i felt like i should have hugged you but i didn't known what would have happened if i did that in front of your mom. . . ((<- important part)) anyhoo IT was fun meeting some of your friends! tell them that they are really cool :D"
He wanted to hug me too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, he "felt like [he] should", but STILL. I REALLY hope this means something.


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Saturday, May 17, 2008



I am a pathetic, withering, incompetent, cowardly piece of crap. I'm not going to see him for three entire months, and I can't even hug him goodbye!!!! Words cannot describe the frustration I'm feeling towards myself, and I wish that I were braver. Less goofy, more confident. He's just so...wonderful. Such a great friend. So kind, good-natured. He laughs at my pathetic excuse for humor, and when he does it's so cute. Just seeing him snort makes me bubble. Which sounds really weird. I had a dream awhile ago that he gave me a hug, and it's impossible to explain how it felt without sounding completely corny. It just felt...right to be in his arms: safe. And it felt like we belonged like that, together. But the point is, I didn't hug him, and now I'll never know what it really feels like. Honestly, why was I so afraid of a hug?


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Monday, May 5, 2008


It's really hit me, now.
I'm leaving to Korea in only a couple weeks, and I'm not going to get back until a couple weeks before school starts.
Shoot me.
NOW.


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Is it a problem that just seeing his name makes me shiver? That discovering that his tryout time was an hour earlier dissappoints me drastically? It probably is, because it means only one thing:

I'm obviously not quite over him yet.

But that can change. Oh, don't fret, that can definitely change.

p.s. Apparently my sister has 'linked' me to her blog (or whatever) so I have to watch out for what I say in all future posts.


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Thursday, May 1, 2008


Why do I have an obsession with writing romances? Simple. I want my characters to have lovely lives that make up for my own pathetic one. Like, while Olivia is pointlessly arguing with Collin when inevitably they're going to end up together, courtesy of their creator, I'm scared of seeing a guy who, I hope, has no clue of my crush on him. I'm scared that he won't even acknowledge me, even though we were friends for awhile there. Like I said, me=insecure. I just want to...look at him. Hear his voice. See his smile... But more than that, I want his laughter to be directed towards me. Like it was for awhile there. I want his voice to be taking part in the art of conversation with mine, his penetrating blue gaze to be focused on my bland, hazel one. In reality, I won't even end up seeing him at the auditions, and if I do ever see him again, it'll be next year, in the after-school orchestra. Which I will end up not making, and he will end up succeeding. Or vice versa. Oh, gosh, my sentences are so choppy. It's infuriating! The point is, all of my characters have their happy endings because I choose the endings for them. All I can hope for is that someday, for at least one year, someone will love me, and I will love them, and I'll be happy. Then reality will kick in, and I'll be left alone, crying. Life for a fictional romance character must be so simple, not having to worry about self-pitying tears, being abandoned and never cared for again. They must all know that they'll end up getting what they want, and there's really no need to worry cause it'll work out in the end. In my case, and in most normal peoples' cases, love isn't that simple. Nor is life.


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