Coldplay

OH MY I LOOK SO LOVELY. Back from the Coldplay concert at 12 this morning.  Now it's time for some studying! Yay?!
By the way, they played Fix You and I almost cried.  Best night of my life (so far).

Twitchy

My eye has been twitchin all over the place today!  Just kidding, it's just twitching in one place, on my face.  Oh look I'm a poet and I don't even know it (that phrase never made sense to me because obviously you'd know you were a poet right after you said 'I'm a poet)  Hey guys! I know I haven't been posting very regularly (at all) but I am under some presh so lets hope it's all relieved by June!  Happy days!  HAH my cat is licking my foot and it...is ...so TICKLY.  AH STOP.  Oh my, I am just all over the place today.  Also, LAST DAY OF PICNIK! I thought'd I have at least a little longer but sadly I do not. But good news! That means an outfit post celebrating what a good old run I had with Picnik.  Yipideedooda.

Oh how I loved our good old awkward times, Picnik.  I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.



Seventeen

"AT SEVENTEEN"

By Janis Ian

I learned the truth at seventeen

That love was meant for beauty queens

And high school girls with clear skinned smiles

Who married young and then retired

The valentines I never knew

The Friday night charades of youth

Were spent on one more beautiful

At seventeen I learned the truth...

And those of us with ravaged faces

Lacking in the social graces

Desperately remained at home

Inventing lovers on the phone

Who called to say "come dance with me"

And murmured vague obscenities

It isn't all it seems at seventeen...

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs

Whose name I never could pronounce

Said: "Pity please the ones who serve

They only get what they deserve"

The rich relationed hometown queen

Marries into what she needs

With a guarantee of company

And haven for the elderly...

So remember those who win the game

Lose the love they sought to gain

In debitures of quality and dubious integrity

Their small-town eyes will gape at you

In dull surprise when payment due

Exceeds accounts received at seventeen...

To those of us who knew the pain

Of valentines that never came

And those whose names were never called

When choosing sides for basketball

It was long ago and far away

the world was younger than today

when dreams were all they gave for free

to ugly duckling girls like me...

We all play the game, and when we dare

We cheat ourselves at solitaire

Inventing lovers on the phone

Repenting other lives unknown

That call and say: "Come on, dance with me"

And murmur vague obscenities

At ugly girls like me, at seventeen...

OH HI LOOK I'M SEVENTEEN THAT'S ME. Hi guys. First birthday post EVER.  Pretty exciting life altering stuff if you ask me.  Anywhooz, I would like to present to you my almost finished dress (for the school fashion show).  Be mindful that the sleeve that is not in existence on the right is not intentionally missing.  I still have to sew that one (note the 'almost finished'). In other news, it feels pretty awesome being 17.  Haha actually it feels exactly the same as 16, 15, 14 and 13.  Wait, no, according to my bat mitzvah I became a woman at 13 so I should have felt something then, eh? 

Okidokes, I'm going to go enjoy my first night out as a seventeen year old!  WOOTZ.  Catch you guys on the flippity flip side! (oh...so that's why I don't have a boyfriend...)

Date a Girl Who Reads

'You should date a girl who reads.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.' source: http://pushinguptulips.tumblr.com/

I'm sorry guys I know I've been a super blog neglect-er lately. AND I'M SO SORRY.  I just don't know what else to say besides you can punch me in the face if you ever catch me in the South Bay.  I have had so much work lately it literally drove me to tears last night.  But that is besides the point.  I promise promise promise I will have an outfit post tomorrow!  Because I shall be celebrating the anniversary of my birth!  Yay!  Okidokes I'm off to study slash actually take a nap then go on the computer then stay up until one in the morning! Then cry myself to sleep about how much work I didn't get done!  Adios!

Music is my Friend

Songs are the ultimate comfort.  Bad break-up? Ben Fold's Brick will do the trick.  Feeling spunky? Try Meredith Brook's Bitch.  Hopelessly in love?  All of the songs below should be sufficient.

I don't think I could have gotten through my freshman year without TSwift's Fifteen.  But my ultimate guitly pleasure song is...yes, Katy Perry's The One that Got Away.  Have a problem? TALK TO DA HAND. 

Sidenote: I'm all for analyzing the meaning of songs and whatnot but sometimes it's just nice to listen and sing along.  That's the beauty of music.  It's really anyone's for the taking.

A little Shins anyone? HECK YES.

I am a trapeze artist

Hi guys I'm sorry I've been so absent lately.  I've just been doing so much.  I went to the Hunger Games midnight showing by the way! I have to say, I loved Peeta in the books...but the film made Josh Hutcherson look kind of like a creepazoid.  I love him anyway, though. 

Anywho, as the title so appropriately denotes, I am in fact a trapeze artist. But not actually.  I just survived a two hour lesson.  But that basically means I am right? Yeah! Here, I'll prove it! Don't be fooled by my seemingly effortless airborne-ness.  I had some silly landings. 

Warning: this is scarier than it looks, I was freaked outta my mind!  Especially when we did that little stunt videoed below.  We're going to do what?!  HOW?!

Note my speed in leaving that net...little did I know...that was only round one. 

You swept me off my feet

There is a strange wind atakin over my little town.  I don't think I've ever felt a wind so strong here, really.  My camera was knocked down probably five times today.  It's okay, though!  Because I (finally) have another outfit post!  Shmoohooz to the woohooz!  And I would just like to share that I'm going to the midnight premerie of the Hunger Games on friday!  YAHOO.  The Not-So-Good fact of the matter, however, is that I have a major ap US history exam that very friday.  Also I should mention that Josie (who is going with me) has the class zero period.  Bumdogmillionare.   That's okay.  BECAUSE IT'S 2012 NO REGRETZ YEAH. Just kidding.  Kind of.

 TEA TIME! Oh gee.



I Love College

And I hate that song.  But who cares.  Wanna see some pics from my college viewing adventures? OKAY!

Part Uno: San Fran

 My papa and I.  Were definitely not standing in front of the Bush sign...nope.  It's the China Town entrance!!

 PIZZA TIME.

 The Museum of Arts and Crafts was right outside of our hotel.  And you could touch the art!  Yipee!

 Lolz (not, haha).  This was for my dad.  Jewish Museum of Arts and Crafts.  Gift shop.

Oh, by the way, we're Jewish.

 Creepy statue outside of the Creative Arts building at San Fran State

 Max, my little bro, trying to act all college-y and nonchalant on his phone.  Psh.  Four more years buddy.

 Dinner de Italiano again!  Mi madre in the Mona Lisa Car.

 Sonoma State tour: the beginning. Oh, of course look who's on their phone.

 We're the Fogels.  We don't get lost.

 They have an island in the middle of a little pond! This alone almost just makes me want to go here.

Nice one.

Happy Birthday Grammity Grams!

And here's me celebrating!  Yahoo! Also, please excuse my weirdness I didn't realize my brother was filming me on his fancy shmancy iPhone until halfway through the video.  You can see my sad attempt at stopping him with my hand but Emily Vs. Iphone= knockout (by the Iphone).

Hey Guys

Hi.  I've been quite absent haven't I?  Well I must tell you guys that I've been out being social and such.  On Friday night I went to a volleyball game and died a little bit inside when my friend/I-want-to-be-more-than- friends friend looked up at me and smiled halfway through the game.  Oh, sigh.  Then I went out to dinner with the usual crowd plus one Taylor (for her birthday) and went to bed feeling all happy and social.  But, wait, there's more!  I  also went to the beach yesterday!  Yes, that's right I walked about ten minutes from my house.  But still, I ventured OUTSIDE! Hah.  Then guess what? Had sushi with the girls again plus the lovely Kristen this time.  I am just high on life right now.  Also this delicious smoothie my mom made me is helping the happiness.  Oh, phooey I feel so ding dang happy.   And yeah, phooey is a word.  I checked. AND I FINISHED MY FIRST SAT YEAH WOOT. Heh. Bye.

 Thought I'd just add this one in. Yum.

Dear Rookie Magazine

Dear Rookie Magazine,

I can’t even remember when I found you but I really can’t even believe I survived half of my high school years without you.  Reading your articles are so much more interesting than studying for junior year finals (duh) and the SAT (that might not be so good).  I have this favorites bar on my computer right above the internet window (maybe there’s a different more techy way of explaining this but whatever) and usually the majority of it is filled with eBay, etsy and BlogSpot icons and maybe the occasional weight loss or ‘calculate your bmi’ icon when I’m in a ‘get fit and healthy’ phase.  Pretty much the whole thing is filled with little black and white ‘R’s now (that’s what your icon looks like if you didn’t know, but you probably do).  I have some of the fiction stories up there just to look at from time to time among DIYs (the pillow skirt in particular) and those photo posts.  Needless to say, you guys kind of replaced eBay for me, almost. 

What I really wanted to get at was that I wish I had found this website freshman year of high school.  I know people are awkward, especially high schoolers (duh, Awkward. On Mtv-best show ever and Freaks and Geeks) but I was especially awkward, and in desperate need of cool-people advice.  Even though I guess I’m supposed to be cooler considering I’m a junior, I’m really not.  I have had one, count ‘em, ONE boyfriend, my whole existence and it was only for two weeks because I didn’t even like him, I do nothing on the weekends, I have never been to a party and my grades aren’t even good enough to compensate for the no social life.  Yeah. Sometimes I feel pretty special.  This magazine, however, has taught me that this kind of lifestyle is totally ok and I’m even convinced I’m a little cool in my own way.  Though the people who write these articles are, like, exponentially cooler than anyone I know (besides David Sedaris and Rayanne Graff), they make me feel cool and, bonus, they make me laugh a lot.

 So thanks Rookie Magazine for making me laugh, making me feel better about myself (in a non cheezy way) and for reading this letter.  This magazine is the bomb.com.

Emily Syd, Tronix Kid

Ps: I’m sorry this isn’t what you’re asking for (to be be sent to you) right now but I really wanted to just say thanks.  Don’t hate me!

I think I might send this, I might I might I might.  I'm doing it.  I'm sending it.

Sweater

Sometimes I feel

As if I'm this really tiny person

In this giant sweater

And I'm just too small

I can't see this great world around me

I can only see the big, obvious things

Through these small stitches

Will I never see those small things?

Strike an... AWKWARD POSE