this is emma. she is my 11-year-old schnoodle (schnauzer-poodle mix breed) and one of the absolute loves of my life. my family got her the summer before 5th grade after years of begging for a dog. we almost didn’t get emma, but i started crying in front of the pet shop we were leaving just after playing with her. she ended up coming home with us that afternoon, and i had the honor of naming her after emma bunton aka baby spice from the spice girls, because she was our little baby.
my dog knows how to do a lot of really strange things, like say “mama” or “i love you” for food. she’ll receive a new toy and have all of its stuffing out and all over the living room floor within the hour. she apparently knows how to put on my bras, which is my fault for leaving them sitting on top of my suitcase when i come home or on the floor. sometimes she acts dumb, like barking when she doesn’t really need to go out, but then you realize how clever it is because she’s actually just trying to get your attention and draw you into the kitchen to give her treats. she’s allergic to chicken and turkey, which is really sad since she loves eating both, and her skin has gotten bad with age. she gets overly excited when we go in the car and will not stop whining the entire way to wherever we’re going. i give her nicknames, like emmy lou and emma bo bemma and will make up entire songs on the spot about her.
i think the one thing that astounds me more than anything else about my dog is how easily she can read human emotion. she has very keen senses for our distress, and when i was going through the pit of my anxiety, she’d come into my room and sleep on the floor next to my bed every night. now my dad is having some issues and she sometimes goes downstairs to sleep with him. i don’t know. she is a goofy little furball and it makes me sad that she’s getting old because i really don’t know what i’d do without her. one of my favorite parts about coming home from school on the weekends is seeing her excitedly waiting for me at the top of the stairs, waiting to be greeted. i think sometimes i’m overly affectionate, like i hug her and kiss her a little more than she’d like to, but i hold on tight because i don’t want to ever let go.
i’m getting through this slowly but surely, i promise.
i really cannot pick what my favorite meme at the moment is since i have so many… but i think if i had to really narrow it down and choose, i really love paranoid parrot because i feel like everything that is ever said directly speaks to my life. if i reblogged as many pps as i thought applied, this entire tumblr would be paranoid parrot. so i just nod along instead.
every time i see one of these wonderful harry potter pictures on tumblr, i start to cry. comparisons of the trio then and now, funny screen gabs with quotes, an image about how we’ve stuck with harry until the end, or even something as simple as all the u.s. hardcover copies lined up on a bookshelf. i see them and my eyes well up with these massive, uncontrollable tears. i know why it wrenches my heart so much, and it is because this boy was my childhood. not even just a part of it, but the spirit of harry potter and all that it has given the world embodies the entirety of my adolescence. harry is perhaps the one constant i’ve had in my life, something i could always turn to for enjoyment and enlightenment, even longer-running than some friendships. i’ve literally grown up with the series. from the first time i sat in a fourth-grade classroom and read of how this mistreated eleven-year-old in the cupboard under the stairs found out he was actually a wizard, to finishing the last book on my back porch the summer after senior year of high school as the trio sent their own kids off to hogwarts. harry potter has always given me something to look forward to, a subculture to become safely enveloped in, where anything was possible and there would always be a light even in the darkest of times. when i was younger, i often joked about how depressed i would be when it all ended, and it’s almost eery how much of a self-fulfilling prophecy has been created with my own words. so with all of that being said, there is only one more thing left to say, and that is to j.k. rowling for giving us something so beyond magical. with a lump in my throat and from the bottom of my heart: thank you, thank you, thank you.
i’m not even sure when i first started using this site. one of my friends must have been using it, so i checked it out and thought it’d be a cool way to blog. but i think tumblr is something entirely different from a blog for the most part. there’s some sort of definite division between people who think they’re pseudo-philosophers, people who just want to reblog funny memes or cute pictures, and the tiny percent of people who actually write. i’m not really sure where i fall under, though i guess i post a lot of pictures of things that make me laugh. i want to write more thoughhhhh
i know, i am complete shit at keeping up with these. but i will finish this one no matter how long it takes!
it doesn’t take much to figure out that my favorite season is autumn. i love the holidays, the weather, and the emotions it brings up within me. there’s something about the brisk, dry air that creates a sense of longing — for security and independence — swell up inside of me. i’m reminded of afternoons parading around the fallen leaves of my backyard as they seek refuge on the dying grass, of being forced to remove muddy sneakers by the back door of the house. i think of all the halloweens running from house to house ringing doorbells, not wanting to wear coats in the chance that they would ruin my outfits, being told to ration my sweets because of my figure. i crave the thanksgiving feasts where i’d wake up early to watch the parade, never amused but always doing it the following year to keep with tradition, the distinct scent fat in the air of the house all day, tasting my mom’s stuffing concoctions as she changed the recipe year after year. i love wearing sweaters and light jackets, and i love trying to figure out which coat is appropriate as the weather fluctuates between chilly and freezing. my freshman year of college is what stands out most vividly, the permanent embodiment of an explorer in my soul. making friendships that felt like family in no time flat, trying to figure out how to adjust to a college work schedule, the few weeks i got to spend interning at a record label, the first few times i got completely wasted. ordering cookies, slaughtering zombies, recording every little thing that happened on my laptop for posterity (and luckily having the more embarrassing bits get lost). dancing along almost barren 3am streets, smoking djarum vanillas (and then blacks) in the dorm courtyard, street corners with hot coffee and a shared muffin between clases, lunch breaks with whole foods sushi and vitamin water in tow, doing my makeup an hour before plans for a boy who i wanted to believe would care. the ever-curious mind never satiated even by all of the plans in the world, because there was always something we didn’t have the chance to do, and we tried to do it all. everything dies in autumn, except for me. in autumn, i live.
first of all, i apologize for already getting interrupted with this little exercise. i know this happened last time i tried one, but i swear i have a legitimate excuse! i was sick this past weekend which blew since i didn’t get to do anything for halloween, other than go to the parade and get some dinner with friends. but i slathered on the black girl foundation, poofed my hair, and snooked up the city for the night. I’M GOING TO JERSEY SHORE BITCH.
moving on. this may inevitably sound a bit debbie downer of me, so i apologize in advance. but i also preface the following with a mantra that has sort of kept me going the past year and a half, and that is the following: everything happens for a reason. figuring out who belongs within and on the outside of my circle of friends has been a turbulent road filled with a lot of self-doubt and undeniably lonely moments. i felt alienated by certain friends — and on the flip side probably alienated a lot of friends who would otherwise be very close to me — because of personal situations going on in my life. i was diagnosed with severe anxiety disorder in november 2008 and am still dealing with repercussions of it, though my anxiety itself is not a fragment as bad as it was at a point not too long ago. after taking a semester off from college, i dove headfirst back into living in the city and going to school, and it essentially felt like i was struggling to stay afloat in a dark wave pool of unknown depths. not only did i come back to a completely unfamiliar school, but i was still battling demons that no one other than those who experienced anxiety themselves could really fully understand. i’m talking more often than not nights up until 4am questioning if i was dying, bursting into fits of tears as i was walking to the subway out of dread of getting on, and unplanned phone calls to my therapist to help coax me out of my own crippling fears.
i think that whenever a not-so-easy situation like this comes into play, it’s difficult for people to truly want to stick around. that isn’t to say i am guiltless of doing things that would affirm such a decision, but the short end of the stick was quickly reached on their parts in some cases. the summer before i returned to school was one of the most bizarre moments in the grand scheme of my friendships. something felt off, but then again, so did everything as a whole. i just recall one night where a group of my friends and i sat around in a friend’s cabin and voiced our grievances with one another, but most of them were directed at me. it felt like an intervention of sorts, and i ended up in tears while explaining to my friends how strange the last couple of months had made me feel. i didn’t feel like myself. and i wouldn’t feel like myself for months to follow. at the end of the summer, i decided to stop speaking to my best friend, and subsequently stopped speaking to most of my other friends in that circle as often as i used to.
fast forward towards the end of the subsequent school year. this is once i’ve actually transferred to baruch from new york university, after months of trying to grapple with a new environment at hunter just to start over — once again — at yet another school. but baruch seemed like a fit where hunter did not, and for that i was thankful. yet i still had some issues with going to school, and still felt isolated in my own right. nothing emulated the magic i felt when i first started college at NYU, completely immersed in the new culture all around me and developing a strong sense of community with people in my dorm and in my classes. and living in an apartment far away from it all, with only three other people as the epicenter of my social life, depressed me. i chose for my social life to unfold the way it did, but again, also circumstances of what was going on in my own head. to be honest, the entire past year seems like one massive fog in retrospect. but anyway.
i decided to move out due to a couple of factors. i’d grown to dislike my apartment and was sick of living there when it was unkempt or covered in dirty dishes that people were too lazy to put up in the dishwasher. but it was mostly that i felt isolated, and the prospect of living in a dorm offered me a chance to build that sense of community i lost when i transferred from nyu. i was told by my roommates to do whatever i felt was best, that we’d always be friends, that they’d love me and we would still spend time together. and so i packed up my things and moved out, leaving behind some furniture and never seeing the thousand dollar security i put down when we first signed the lease to live there. two of them haven’t spoken to me since june, i bailed on a concert i was supposed to go to with the third, and all three were removed from my facebook last weekend.
all the people in question were people i would have, a year and a half ago, considered to be my closest friends. i don’t think it was a false or uneducated belief on my part, as they really did reach out to me as best they could. and i thought that, despite all of what was going on with me, i gave my whole heart and a half to be there just as much for them. everyone likes to imagine they’re the ideal person in scenarios, but being a good friend is something i’ve always prided myself on. even in high school i’d be the one incessantly doing favors for my friends, but it didn’t bother me as much as it brought me joy. when a friend is upset, i offer my full attention and consolation. when a friend is sick, i offer to bring by food or visit them. i don’t think i was deficient as far as one friend should treat another friend, but life circumstances just got in the way.
and that’s something i’ve been struggling to accept, that everything happens for a reason. maybe i simply don’t cope well with change. hey, people enter and exit your lives continually throughout its course, and it’s not always up to your discretion as to when it happens. i still think about these friends sometimes, as i don’t think it’s human to completely severe ties with people and immediately cut the binding cord on care or concern. i don’t know whether or not i would want to resume friendship at this point, in some cases things just seem too far gone. and selfish as it is to speculate about, every so often i wonder if they think about me too.
i’ve talked a lot about former friends in this entry, but one of the most incredible things about this semester so far has been the amazing people i have had the chance to meet. the people living on my floor are so kind-hearted and fun and brilliant in their own ways, and feeling a connection to all of the people here has made me more inclined to search for it at school as well. i have my family of course, and certain incredible friends from the internet, and my wonderful NYU boys who have been my rocks in their own ways since the days we met. it feels like i’ve reached the tail end of the stormy journey and i’m ready to resume where aimee left off. perhaps a little more apprehensive, but that’s growing up. i think anxiety is something that will always exist in my life on some level, but the past semester has given me such an explicit sense of clarity. everything happens for a reason, maybe this could be it.