tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81894271257860577512024-02-06T20:38:02.534-08:00peace, love, and vitamin waterthe story of a girl's life in words and pictures. but mostly words.Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-11369714688493777132010-02-21T14:23:00.000-08:002010-02-24T02:24:56.458-08:00i can see clearly now<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ahhhh</span>. i have nothing to blog about. and yet, i am blogging again. please be patient while i think of a topic.<br />...<br /><br />....<br /><br />.....<br /><br />it's raining outside. some people say it's dreary, but i love the rain. it's cool and refreshing and beautiful. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> never experienced rain like Flan has in Indonesia, (visit her blog, <a href="http://www.flaninindonesia.blogspot.com/">www.flaninindonesia.blogspot.com</a>) where the thunder makes you jump. To me, that sounds exciting!! its like a mega-cleanse spa treatment for the earth. (wow, that didn't sound hippie-dippy AT ALL. i dare you to say it out loud with a hippie voice and not get laughed out of the room. i dare you.)<br /><br />there's that song... is it bob <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">marley</span>? the "i can see clearly now the rain has gone, i can see all obstacles in my way..." well i don't know about you but the rain more than the sun makes me see clearly. the sun is hot, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">stifling</span>, and sometimes unbearable. the rain just always seems cool and lovely.<br /><br />whenever it rained in salt lake, i would always run up to my room, sit on my bed, and watch the rain from the window beside it. i don't really know why... it was just something i always did. when i was little i would watch the raindrops race down my window. I would always root for the littlest raindrops, who would normally lose. (and yes, i know now it's because they had a smaller mass, THANK YOU physics kids.) <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">i've</span> really never been scared of thunder or lightning. honestly, it always <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fascinated</span> me. i loved to count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder to see how far away it was from my house. <br /><br /> now, the rain just gives me time to think, to clear my mind. today, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'm</span> sitting in the kitchen of a old apartment in Paris, looking out a new window on to a back alley, and the rain has the same calming, cleansing effect that always made me happy as a little kid. it makes me feel almost closer to home, in a way.<br /><br />i love the smell of rain. the smell of rain on the sidewalk is the best smell ever. I mean yeah, you could make decent cases for fresh-baked cookies and the smell of guys after they shower but rain wins, hands DOWN. i can't even describe the smell for you now... it's not necessarily "clean"... not even "fresh" i really have no idea how to describe it. comment what you think, if you feel so inclined. <br /><br />so i guess the bottom line is i love rain because its rejuvenating. (that's a funny word. rejuvenating.) in all seriousness, the world just seems more alive and beautiful when it rains. so now i guess <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'll</span> open the new window in this old apartment to feel and smell and taste the pouring rain... that is, until my roommate yells "SHUT THE GODDAMN WINDOW, IT'S FREEZING IN HERE!!!" to which i will grin like an idiot, and do as she tells me.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">xoxo</span><br />emsEmmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-45933628122177636542010-02-03T04:48:00.000-08:002010-02-03T14:06:40.253-08:00this is what i look like today<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKeEU11elC4emt_2Ig2AbKs8j9BcGbKUesMQHibURlFDYI4VvwPpJ_3TyMMMgGV2PrwlUG_ooVa5HDjbUHwgvyN9St02vz-QrrWi1otluJdUYfM7jy8l-YC0Zh4mmbtnbhlLcCKgEjUv6z/s1600-h/cardboard-broken-heart-in-red-light-photographic-print-c12617609.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 243px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434141426625498402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKeEU11elC4emt_2Ig2AbKs8j9BcGbKUesMQHibURlFDYI4VvwPpJ_3TyMMMgGV2PrwlUG_ooVa5HDjbUHwgvyN9St02vz-QrrWi1otluJdUYfM7jy8l-YC0Zh4mmbtnbhlLcCKgEjUv6z/s320/cardboard-broken-heart-in-red-light-photographic-print-c12617609.jpg" /></a><br /><div>here's a poem i found on the internet... i think it's kinda cool...a little angsty, but it poetry, you know? haha comment what you think of it!<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="right">echo of my heart</div><div align="right"><br /></div><div align="right">(i couldn't find the author's actual name)</div><div align="right"><br /></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right">the door shuts behind me with a click. </div><div align="right">i take a deep breath</div><div align="right">and run.</div><div align="right">my scuffed shoes hit the ground softly, silently</div><div align="right">they don't slam, not yet</div><div align="right">i hear only my footsteps on the crowded street</div><div align="right">so i listen to the echo of my broken heart .</div><div align="right">i pass by hookers, drug dealers, knockoff-sellers,</div><div align="right">mothers with their screaming babies</div><div align="right">but i don't see them.</div><div align="right">i concentrate on the road before me</div><div align="right">as my footsteps echo the beating of my broken heart.</div><div align="right">I don't think of you.</div><div align="right">or of her. </div><div align="right">i don't remember how i cried</div><div align="right">when i found out she was</div><div align="right">the only one who was meant for you to love</div><div align="right">that i would</div><div align="right">never be yours.</div><div align="right">i simply run</div><div align="right">and listen to the echo of my broken heart</div><div align="right">i don't run for you</div><div align="right">i don't run for her</div><div align="right">i'm not even sure</div><div align="right">i run for me.</div><div align="right">i run to feel alive,</div><div align="right">to look ahead,</div><div align="right">and to listen to the echo of my broken heart.</div><div align="right"><br /></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"><br /></div><div align="center">xoxo</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">ems</div><div><br /></div><div align="center"></div>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-19170719254314275302010-02-02T03:16:00.000-08:002010-02-02T04:01:45.804-08:00it's a long story...that's what i always tell people when they ask me why i'm in Paris and i don't know them well. just say (in your dumbest-sounding voice) "uhmmm its kind of a long story..." and then quickly change the subject. works like a charm. <br /><br />anyway i know some of you readers are keen on going to Paris someday, so i've set up a series of rules for you if you want to look like a local in good old pair-ee.<br /><br />1) look cool at all times. you must NEVER NEVER EVER break this rule. try not to run when you're in a hurry, have a bored, glazed expression on at ALL times, act like you are better than all those other dirty foreigners, and always dress your best!<br /><br />2)if you don't know French, try not to talk. the easiest way to put a glowing neon sign over your head that says "TOURIST" is by making a big scene with a local trying to ask where the nearest toilet is. if you absolutely NEED to talk, try to be polite and use as much French as possible before you ask them "est que vous comprendrez l'anglais?" then that at least makes you seem like a relatively cool tourist.<br /><br />3) blend in physically. CONFORM OR FREAKING DIE. if you come in the winter, black pea coats and scarves all around. women in stylish leather boots and black skinny jeans. NEVER EVER wear running shoes. Men... man purse. thats all i'm gonna say. seriously there was this big intimidating looking guy sitting next to me on the metro and i was scared of him until i saw his prada man-purse. <br /><br />4) Don't ask for demi-baguettes. bakery-people will give you crazy looks. man up and get a whole one, then save the rest for tomorrow (another day you won't have to speak broken french to a pastry shop worker... congrats) Don't get tons of pastries every day. this will make you a fat foreigner. french women stay thin because they dont get pastries every day and suck on cancer-sticks all the time. if you don't want to do the latter (which i strongly reccomend) then try to do the first. reward yourself with a pastry every once in a while. (or if you must get one EVERY day, make it at a different bakery every day so they don't know you are actually a legit tourist)<br /><br />5) if you DO speak french, milk it for all it's worth. people will love you. but you should definitely do everything else to blend in too.<br /><br />6) now, i speak to you as a friend, not an instructor. BUY THE FRUIT. it's SO good. very fresh. so much better than the united states. italian kiwis are my new heroin.<br /><br />7) don't smile at stangers. they will think you are mentally handicapped or something. just don't do it.<br /><br />8) say bonjour to the store owner as soon as you enter the store. and au revior after you leave... i don't know why, i guess it's common courtesy. and make sure you know how actually SAY those words before you leave. no 'BON-geur'-ing should ever occur.<br /><br />9) don't make a face when people light up. EVERYONE smokes and i have probably inhaled enough second-hand smoke to fuel a small nation here, but don't make a big deal out of it. it's just rude and will NOT make you any friends.<br /><br />10) get in shape before you go. i cannot even begin to tell you how many stairs you will climb while you are here. <br /><br />au revoir for now!<br />xoxo<br />emsEmmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-46913367369355591492009-12-21T08:50:00.000-08:002009-12-21T09:27:39.115-08:00crazy stuff, yoi would just like to thank the united states department of education for thinking up the ingenious WINTER BREAK. THANK YOU! If you guys hadn't done that, i would have shot myself a LONG time ago. seriously. <div><br /></div><div>well it's super foggy here... you can't even see the mountains, and that's definitely saying something. and the houses across the street from mine look fuzzy. not the ideal holiday situation, but whatever, man. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">soooo</span>... i guess i need an exciting story to tell you guys because so far this has probably been the most boring blog post you've ever read. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">hmmmm</span>... </div><div><br /></div><div>crap.</div><div><br /></div><div>wait... i can tell you about my movie-crying expertise! that might be kind of interesting.</div><div>so to make this relevant to now, last night i watched the proposal for the second time (its a great movie, go and watch it) I cried in the exact same spot that i cried in when i saw it the first time. and get this... I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN AND CRIED ANYWAY. </div><div><br /></div><div> I am the biggest movie-crier you will probably ever meet. I have cried in way too many movies to count, however my claim to fame is "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tigger's</span> big movie" (i also cried in piglet's, but that's beside the point) i don't know why i get so emotionally attached to the characters in movies, but its kind of embarrassing. like in school, we watched the joy luck club and the last scene in the movie, i cried. i was the only one who did in a class of like 30 people, and i felt like a total idiot when everyone was staring at me and my teacher came and handed a tissue to me. MORTIFYING. </div><div><br /></div><div>bottom line: i cry in lots of movies. and yes, it's embarrassing and you might not want to be seen with me at a movie theater, but hey. i guess thats just how i roll. </div><div><br /></div><div>look! i just wasted like 5 minutes of your time with a pretty boring blog post about nothing in particular! yaay!</div><div><br /></div><div>xoxo</div><div>ems</div>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-25555297546374971272009-11-02T16:22:00.000-08:002009-11-23T15:18:56.795-08:00{insert appropriate title of blog here}honestly, im not real sure what to write. my life really hasn't been all that exciting. i guess i just wanted yall to know that YES in fact i am still alive, and have access to a computer... to those of you who don't see me every day at school.<br /><br />so i guess i'll give you 10 comments on my life...<br /><br />1) I HATE WORLD HISTORY! it sucks balls. mr. mcnaughtan makes me want to sleep. the book does too. i have a feeling a AP prep-book is in order...<br /><br />2) say hello to one of this year's take 5 directors! im uber pumped and can't wait for auditions! or to know what plays have been picked! my fellow directors have been so great to meet with and i'm so psyched to work with them. i don't really care if i get a drama or a comedy or dramedy or whatever. i just hope i don't get stuck with the crap play cuz i'm a sophomore...i hear a lot of people are submitting this year, so hopefully there won't even be a crap play for me to be stuck with.<br /><br />3) men suck. just a little. oh well.<br /><br />4) drama, oh drama, why must you always come knocking on our doors when god knows you're not wanted here? dammit.<div><br /></div><div>5) i'm kind of hating choices a little right now. there are so goddamn many of them and i always seem to make the wrong ones. </div><div><br /></div><div>6) so i guess i don't really know what i want. from anything or anyone. objective-less. if life was a play the director probably would have fired me by now for not having objective this late in the rehearsal process. (wow that sounced corny) it's not like i don't know what i want from life... i just don't know what i want from life RIGHT NOW... you know?</div><div><br /></div><div>7) oranges would be cooler if they were purple.</div><div><br /></div><div>8) wow... thanksgiving already? i'm afraid to blink... i might miss christmas. </div><div><br /></div><div>9) i need thetwo school days this week to be over... like now? please?</div><div><br /></div><div>well dang. guess that's only nine. oh well. </div><div><br /></div><div>xoxo</div><div>ems</div><div><br /></div>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-86515201868131281672009-09-09T15:44:00.000-07:002009-09-09T16:04:37.254-07:00well, here we are.well it certainly has been awhile since i last blogged. mostly because i always open the 'new post' page with an idea, only to find out it sounds dumb or its inappropriate for a blogging topic. i mean i really wish i could just dump my heart and soul on here but then again, people do READ these, so yeah... <div><br /></div><div>not gonna lie, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">i'm</span> pretty pissed right now. not about anything in particular. well, never mind, that was a lie. a LOT of things in particular... okay, and a lot of people in particular. and a lot of things in particular that people in particular have done. i won't name any specific sources here, but yeah. just had to share. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>have you ever wondered why we were put on earth? like really WHY. i mean we all die in the end right? so is there a certain thing we were meant to do or what? seriously there are over 6 billion people in the world. 6 billion. that's a lot. so were we all put here to make a difference? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">cuz</span> if we did, the world would have a lot of differences made by now. what if the world ran out of differences to be made? and what about the people that don't make a difference? what is their purpose? live and die? that's it? and then i can't help wonder which kind of person i am. if <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">i'm</span> gonna be the person that years from now,<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">i'll</span> be a household name, or if <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">i'm</span> one of those people that comes into the world and leaves it, just like that. </div><div><br /></div><div>okay this is getting too deep for me so i better stop ;) </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">xoxo</span></div><div>ems</div><div><br /></div>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-56527214774586060872009-08-25T14:26:00.000-07:002009-08-25T14:58:27.913-07:00the first day! ahhhhhh!well today was the first day. it wasn't very epic or exciting. the best part of the day was when i walked in, looked around and realized... "i'm not a freshman!" and on the way to debate (my first class) i saw all these little freshies running around who looked like they had super-glued their schedules to their faces. and, not gonna lie, it made me really happy. so happy, in fact that when i got to debate i yelled "hey guys! i'm not a freshman anymore!" because of that evan and carson now think i'm on something but that's okay. :) i'm just happy not to be a freshman. <div><br /></div><div>so embarrassing story time! I went to math today right? and 2/3 of the way through the class the teacher called roll. He didn't call my name and the kid sitting next to me wasn't called either. turns out he read his schedule wrong. so, i assumed i had done the same thing and thought i had switched my spanish and math classes. so i take the trek down to senor selles' room and of course i have to tell my friend (who is in the class) everything, and the entire class ends up listening to my story and i ask senor if i'm in his class this period. he tells me i'm not, and so i go back to math to find that math was my correct class, i'm an idiot and high schoolers tends to laugh at idiots. moral of the story: if you don't want to be laughed at, don't be an idiot. the end. :)</div><div><br /></div><div>well those are my exciting stories of the day. not really very exciting, i know but whatever. i'm not a freshman anymore, so you can suck it. </div><div><br /></div><div>xoxo</div><div>ems</div>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-48028494277820671302009-08-19T22:49:00.000-07:002009-08-19T23:37:01.636-07:00seamless lives and jelly jarsyou know those people who just seem to have it all? like you know you really really hate them on the outside, but on the inside you can't help but admire how perfect their lives are? and you wonder, sometimes if they know how lucky they really are? or seem to be? <div>i know that i am a really lucky person. i mean i have family, friends, a house, not dying of starvation or anything. but hell, my life is not perfect. and yeah i sometimes have a lot of problems with my life. and i know i'm lucky, but sometimes i totally wish i could be someone else, or just disappear. you know the whole "Poof!"and the world would continue on, completely normal, without me.</div><div>and sometimes i wonder if others think of me as a person with a perfect life. and it makes me wonder that maybe if the people who i think have perfect lives...</div><div>are really just like me. </div><div>feeling lost.</div><div>and looking back at me and thinking </div><div>"god. she is so lucky. why can't my life be more like hers?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Well on to a happier topic! :)</div><div><br /></div><div>i know the title said "seamless lives and jelly jars" but i'm really not going to talk about jelly jars. i thought it just sounded really cool. it kind of rolls off the tongue, you know?</div><div><br /></div><div>anyway what i'm really going to talk about is sweatpants. (see? the title would not have been HALF as cool if it was "seamless lives and sweatpants". doesn't have the same ring to it.) they are so amazing! i would totally live in sweatpants if i could. by the way, who made up the rule that sweatpants are a fashion faux pas? LAME. if they aren't already dead i would kill them. i know i shouldn't care, and blah, blah but still. i like to look somewhat put together... who doesn't? we all try and look relatively normal when we go to school right?</div><div> i mean nothings wrong with jeans or anything. maybe it's the mindset that sweats get you in. seriously, like if you go to school in skinny jeans you're in a completely different mindset. like you're trying to impress someone. trying to look good for the world. I save my sweatpants for the days i really don't give a shit. and they make me feel great! </div><div>hmmm... i totally just made a discovery! well kinda. maybe its not the sweats after all. maybe it's just how you feel the day you put them on. like you really don't care what people think. and maybe thats why we all like them so much! well that and those soft, fuzzy insides. mmmm.</div><div><br /></div><div>xoxo</div><div>ems</div>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-76241757516087815632009-08-12T20:04:00.000-07:002009-08-12T20:38:41.406-07:00bleh! school.school starts in a week and a half. i really really dont want to go back... i mean think about it. i'm going back to pointless drama, math homework, packed hallways, boring classes, and douche-baggy boys. (thanks maria! haha.) but seriously the walls of east high school are oozing with teenage angst. i swear to Buddha that they put some kind of gas in the air vents that makes all of the teachers and students grumpy all the time. i'm going to see some people who i was fortunate enough to avoid over the summer. i'm going to have to spend <i>time</i> with <i>them</i>. sophmore year could totally be sucksville. or you know, i could be positive. i'm going back to see people i missed. going back to lunchtime, inside jokes, seeing my friends every day, messing around in class, and though we all hate to admit it, some of those douche-baggy boys are not too bad to look at. <div>anyway, we all love to hate school. but okay i'll admit it. i've had some pretty good times inside those white-washed walls of east high. lots of bad ones too, don't get me wrong. but a small handful of really good times. </div><div>lets face it. last year i wanted to come to east high and be like a new person. the new and improved emma. to all of a sudden be liked by everyone. and i was really dissapointed when it didn't happen. </div><div>this year, i know i'm not going to be homecoming royalty or whatever. and i know those hot douche-baggy boys won't all of a sudden all get crushes on me and that i will rise to popularity or something like that. so this year, i'm gonna walk into those east high doors and try to be myself, for once, and i can promise you one thing. this year, i am gonna have a goddamn party being me.</div><div>xoxo</div><div>ems</div>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-14760152319836826852009-08-02T16:07:00.000-07:002009-08-02T16:48:21.354-07:00the power of words<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudrlBdqE9NDHCng7CbHA2HcOd2IA40POFKc9yKTH-xJSJlg3_pBCLbnETkRaBBcmCdCJgQUlDVhAx3hkJQwtQfMkwcXeoOj0PrO2TCgzkoaAnt1AGTqqe-fqYDHYDp0YHUA74R4UlONQg/s1600-h/words.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365516164348233234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjudrlBdqE9NDHCng7CbHA2HcOd2IA40POFKc9yKTH-xJSJlg3_pBCLbnETkRaBBcmCdCJgQUlDVhAx3hkJQwtQfMkwcXeoOj0PrO2TCgzkoaAnt1AGTqqe-fqYDHYDp0YHUA74R4UlONQg/s320/words.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />okay. so for the last two weeks i have been taking the best acting class ever. like THE best. i felt like i could trust every single person in there so much, and that i could make a total fool out of myself and no one would laugh at me or judge me outside of class. plus everyone was so involved! everyone gave their all to everything to the exercises the teacher (who was one of the best i have ever had) gave us to do. i felt like i could just explore. it was fantastic, and definitely one of the best acting experiences i've ever had.<br /><br /><br />but, now to my point. We did this exercise where we wrote down words we thought were hateful, and not just like swear words. like words that connected to our lives that we thought were hateful. we gave two words from our list to the teacher, who read them out loud, with feeling while we just walked around the room,. and i didn't think it would do anything. like really, reading words aloud? but by the 6th word he read there were girls who were fighting back tears. i was shocked how much they really made me feel. and when he read the words i had written down, it just hit a chord inside of me, i was blinking back tears. really honestly, when he read my words of hate, i wanted to curl up in a corner and cover my ears and cry. and they were just words. just... words. it was amazing. after the words of hate, we had to go and hug everyone in the room. we also did words of praise, but everyone in the room was so affected by the words of hate that everyone in the class was just a little off emotionally that day. it just made me think how much words can affect us. oh and don't think he just did this to verbally abuse us all. the exercises helped me tons with my emotional recall, and also totally helped me with replicating pure emotion onstage, how just thinking of someone saying those words to me could get me into such a strong emotional state. i mean you always hear how words can hurt a lot but i never really felt how much words can hurt until that day.<br /><br />xoxo,<br />emsEmmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8189427125786057751.post-63131964311697779252009-07-19T15:03:00.001-07:002009-07-27T21:25:07.237-07:00a fresh startso... if you're reading this you probably know this is my second blog. the first <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v0T0JfwmngF8SFBHoHo0RVz8-3-iWHxppHdTAZ1qFUJEBrBtPpFrvW2bM98jSBRL0ZM7tU7kJKYH_jCsi0WM5xNJPH6pV4h-7tap9SZqGulcPK424flZi9E9d_1JpsvKlLZtmIxyIVhw/s1600-h/A%2520Fresh%2520Start.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360300545770053810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v0T0JfwmngF8SFBHoHo0RVz8-3-iWHxppHdTAZ1qFUJEBrBtPpFrvW2bM98jSBRL0ZM7tU7kJKYH_jCsi0WM5xNJPH6pV4h-7tap9SZqGulcPK424flZi9E9d_1JpsvKlLZtmIxyIVhw/s320/A%2520Fresh%2520Start.jpg" border="0" /></a>one i deleted because i felt it was kinda dumb and pointless. however, now i have realized that being kinda dumb and pointless is the point of a blog. as you can see, i have decided to try and start over. its kinda refreshing. you know, new blank page, unlimited possibilities. blah, blah, blah. okay im not really sure what to say if you haven't read my blog before and dont know who i am. i guess ill start with a definition of me:<br /><br /><br />emma: eh-muh: <em>n.</em> 1) a normal teenage girl who loves many things such as: friends, laughing, singing, rainstorms, her iPod and vitamin water. 2) a double-and-a-half threat. (can sing and act, can dance a little) 3) a person who is frightened of the following things: fire, driving a car, and the future.<br /><br />so there you go. a dictionary-esque definition of yours truly.<br /><br /><br /><br />i need to do my summer homework, so i will write later.<br /><br /><br />xoxo<br />ems<br /><br />p.s. yes i know that i didn't capitolize any of my entry. i think it makes my blog have some personality. or i just rock at life.Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12459714183830997479noreply@blogger.com0