Em, ily!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Blue Eyes, [Yellow] Dragon

In elementary school, everybody used to have these complicated "cool" emails, like:

bubblesarecool123@whatever.com

or something like that. When I made my first ever email (Yahoo!), I planned mines all out. I wanted it to be:

trubluazndragon@yahoo.com

Can you believe that?! Illiteracy was so "cool" back then, I didn't know what I was getting myself into! Luckily, my internet crashed several times and one of the adults finally helped make one for me. Without asking what I wanted my username to be. So now, it's [insertemailaddresshere], instead of what's above. Seriously, what up with the "tru blu azn dragon" anyway? Blue was never my favorite color. I wasn't that proud of my ethnicity. & I didn't like dragons that much. What up, Lil' Emily!? Phew. Thanks, Destiny. It just wasn't meant to be.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Dreaming of You

I'VE CONVINCED MYSELF THAT I DON'T LIKE YOU.

SO WHY THE FREAK DO YOU KEEP SNEAKING INTO MY DREAMS?!
I was so determined... not to keep thinking about you. So why do you do this to me? ):

Monday, May 3, 2010

"You're the Top" - Cole Porter

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best,
Instead of getting 'em off my chest,
To let 'em rest unexpressed,
I hate parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty
At least it'll tell you
How great you are.

You're the top!
You're the Coliseum.
You're the top!
You're the Louver Museum.
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss
You're a Bendel bonnet,
A Shakespeare's sonnet,
You're Mickey Mouse.
You're the Nile,
You're the Tower of Pisa,
You're the smile on the Mona Lisa
I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop,
But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top!

Your words poetic are not pathetic.
On the other hand, babe, you shine,
And I can feel after every line
A thrill divine
Down my spine.
Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
Might think that your song is bad,
But I got a notion
I'll second the motion
And this is what I'm going to add;

You're the top!
You're Mahatma Gandhi.
You're the top!
You're Napoleon Brandy.
You're the purple light
Of a summer night in Spain,
You're the National Gallery
You're Garbo's salary,
You're cellophane.
You're sublime,
You're turkey dinner,
You're the time, the time of a Derby winner
I'm a toy balloon that’s fated soon to pop
But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top!
You're an arrow collar
You're the top!
You're a Coolidge dollar,
You're the nimble tread
Of the feet of Fred Astaire,
You're an O'Neill drama,

You're Whistler's mama!

You're camembert.

You're a rose,
You're Inferno's Dante,

You're the nose
On the great Durante.
I'm just in a way,
As the French would say, "de trop".
But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top!
You're a dance in Bali.
You're the top!
You're a hot tamale.
You're an angel, you,
Simply too, too, too diveen,
You're a Boticcelli,
You're Keats,
You're Shelly!

You're Ovaltine!
You're a boom,
You're the dam at Boulder,
You're the moon,
Over Mae West's shoulder,
I'm the nominee of the G.O.P.

Or GOP!

But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

You're the top!
You're a Waldorf salad.
You're the top!
You're a Berlin ballad.
You're the boats that glide
On the sleepy Zuider Zee,
You're an old Dutch master,

You're Lady Astor,
You're broccoli!
You're romance,
You're the steppes of Russia,
You're the pants, on a Roxy usher,
I'm a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop,

But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
You're the top!

Cute, much? The lyrics anyhow. Now all I need is "Somebody to Love." NOT, my butt.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Taylor & Me

Love her in these moments. Such a cute kid, just over-influenced.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Rapping Dude

So since we had a whack schedule, due to STAR testing, I thought I'd wait for Jessica (Lee) to walk with to class after Woods. And so we're walking.... hastily... because the bell was about to ring any second (& it did) and it just happened to be one of those moments where you're not really walking WITH somebody, but more like next to the person in the same pace... and the dude starting rapping. And I'm just looking at Jessica and she's just looking at me and we're both thinking "Wtpig?! Do you know him?!" and we finally actually listen to what he's rapping and it turns out he's making everything up on the spot! Like, literally. Um... I don't know how it went, but it was really good... following his own beat and everything! The only line I remember was:

And you, over there, sipping --what-- green tea?

because that's when I finally realized he was talking to me. xD & more of all these cool rhyming words and whatsnot. Jessica finally asked him if he was rapping everything on the spot and he replied with a rap all the way, of course, but the bell rang, so we ran away.

I knew we had singers and dancers and instrumentalists and athletes, but I didn't know our school had that much real talent.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Nothing much.

I hate that you unintentionally make me smile when my mind just starts thinking about you.

& then you wonder, "Who da heo is she talking about?" and I reply, "No one," because in fact, I'm not supposed to love you.

After all, he's just a figment of my imagination.

Whatever, I'm already content with my fambam and homie gees. <3
I don't need you. So why should I waste time trying to play games with you?
I see all these girls, getting their hearts broken, even before anything happens, and I'm just thinking, I have better things to do with my heart.
Am I in a state of delirium? Or am I simply being realistic? I prefer the latter.

But yes, I do like you.
So what then?
Nothing. Just 'cause I like you doesn't mean I'm gonna make you be mine. Why should I? Don't you like your freedom? I know I love mines.

So, tell me when you're ready. You'll know when the time comes.