I'm feeling unproductive.

I should be doing homework, but instead I find myself listening to Madness and attempting to put posters on the walls (doesn't work too well, by the way, but smaller paper stuffs--flyers, the like--stay up pretty well). The warm weather and listening to the Skoidats on the way to church has given me the wanderlust, and on top of that, our current Bible study in the college group is over Epic by John Eldredge. Now it just keeps bringing me back to The Journey of Desire, and that deep and intense yearning to be part of something larger than myself ... to be part of a larger story (which is what Epic is about) ... to do ... something. It's like, in my brain, life doesn't start til after college. I think that's why I keep rushing myself to finish periodically ... my thoughts are hedged in terms of "I need to get this out of the way before I can do anything else."

You want to know something else funny? I don't have weird marriage paranoia when I think in terms of Journey of Desire or Epic. I ask myself the question, what is the deepest desire of my heart?--and I can feel it; I can feel the answer. Somewhere deep in there is the need to wander, the need to meet and reach out to people; and I definitely want Aaron to be there with me. There's none of those lingering cultural questions like "but what if he isn't THE ONE?" Fact of the matter stands, I don't give a rat's ... backside ... if there even is such a thing as "THE ONE," because even if there is, Aaron's the person I want to be with. Well, that makes sense in my own head. Anyway.

In any event, I've realized that I don't want to "grow up," settle down, get married, have kids, you know the drill, just because it's what I'm supposed to do. There's nothing wrong with any of those things, and I'm not throwing out the idea that I'll ever do them. But I absolutely refuse to do it because it's what I'm supposed to do. I'm not going to get married because it's a cultural rite of passage that I absolutely have to go through, so I might as well pick the least offensive person for the job; I'm going to get married, when I do, because I want to.

What is the deepest desire of my heart? ... I can feel it, but I can't explain it. And at this point, I wish that it would come about sooner--I have a deep and intense longing for it. Aaaargh.

And on that note:

I feel the burning need to make fun of the e-mail that she sent me that one time. Hooray!

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: chloeDate: Jul 30, 2007 1:45 PM
this is so awkward but ummm on your profile and onn aaron's it like says ya'll are together how long has this been going on because like umm some stuff like happened this summer and i hope you two just barely started going out other wise i feell really bad about this whole situation so like message me back so i can figure out whats going on aarons messing with one of our heads and i need to figure out which one of ours it is ok??sorry again lol

Thought 1: Holy crap, how old do you think I am, twelve?

Thought 2: Who takes the time to write "umm" in an e-mail?

Thought 3: Same question, this time regarding "like."

Thought 4: A drunken one-armed monkey named Jimmy the Wonder Ferret could type better than you, and he's on edge because he's about to go to rehab. What's your excuse?

Thought 5: ... was the most sarcastic e-mail that I've ever written:

From: Emily
Date: Jul 30, 2007 4:31 PM


So.

Hello.

Just so you know, I don't believe a word of this crap. Never have, never will. It's not even worth the effort of trying to convince me. =P In case you didn't notice, I'm a grown woman who doesn't subscribe to juvenile MySpace getting-back-at-someone-else gags. In all honesty, there are two things about this whole prepubescent attempt at revenge that really make me angry: One, you were trying to mess with Aaron. That by itself pisses me off to no end, as I get pretty touchy when people screw around with the people I care about. Two, on top of trying to destroy the life of someone I love, you tried to do it through me. What do you take me for, a twelve-year-old? Did you really think that you could manipulate me that easily? I'm insulted that you think that I'm that stupid. Actually, come to think of it, I'm almost impressed that you're so shallow that you thought you could use me to get back at Aaron in some way. Wow.

So ... yes. Before the sarcasm gets truly biting, I will end this e-mail with: Just leave us alone. I'm insulted that you really thought that you could get back at Aaron by sending me e-mails full of your nonsensical, juvenile, lying, entirely fictional ... sweet mother o' mercy ... I can't think of any other adjectives that aren't full of expletives. And I'm not going to sink to that level. =P Whatever the case, leave me out of your twelve-year-old mind games. They clearly don't work on me.

Nice doing business with you.

... Emily

And oh yes. While I'm thinking about it: Don't try that "It was all a mistake" crap on me, either. I, being a girl myself, know how we think, and that was a very deliberate action on your part. Thanks to this whole episode, I will never believe another word that comes out of your mouth ... as if I would've in the first place.

And don't you talk smack about Aaron around me. I will not hesitate to kick yer butt. I'm pretty sure that I've got half the city of Abilene on my side, too. So, back off.

And learn to spell.

And learn another word beside "like."

Happy holidays to all.

("You were feeling really bad about this whole situation" ... oh my ... good god ... how manipulative can you get? It really floors me every time I read this. Did you think that you could play me like some kind of game? Did you really think that low of me? Some advice, my friend: Get a job. Get a hobby. Whatever you get, get off MySpace.)

Thought 1: ... that is single-handedly the most sarcastic piece of communication that I've ever written. If I hadn't been in such a blind rage I probably would've just cussed a lot. As it was, I think that my apparent calm scared the piss out of her, because she tried to pretend like nothing had ever happened:

yes mistakes take place somewhere in this picture you look alot like a girl I know rather well so my mistake.....her MIDDLE name is emily and I thought she was trying to run from me.....trying to subclude herself in some manner......but I didnt even look at you pictures this whole deal is NOT my fault, I told my friend about the ordeal I was in she knew my myspace password and I didnt write any of this stuff......I dont know how it came to be that you AND your significant other got mixed up in this I am sorry to the fullest about this situation what ever damage has been caused by these words I am sorry I take responsability for what has happened because I was stupid enough to let someone know my password I am confused on what all has been said....Im not asking you to forgive me or anything I just wanted to clear things up

have a good life high hopes for you and your loved one-Chloe

Thought 1: ... pretty sure that "subclude" isn't a word. Good try, though. Attempting to sound smart so that I would think that we had something in common. FAIL!

Thought 2: Once again, the drunken monkey can write--and lie--better. Your excuse about a friend having your MySpace password is complete BS. Oh yes, and so is "her MIDDLE name is Emily." Kudos for a lie so transparent that, if you used it as a sliding glass door, birds would fly into it on sunny days. I'm impressed ... at your stupidity! Bahaha!

Maybe I should lay off this for a while. I'm starting to get really smarcastic. =P Oh well. It made me feel better.

I do have to add, though ...

... that I've always wanted to go on Stormy's (Aaron's distant ex) MySpace page and write, "Your poetry is trite and cliched! Try using a metaphor instead of a simile every once in a while! And for God's sake, everyone your age has written an America-sucks-so-hard poem ... at least write about something original!"

But then again, I don't really care, because (as I've mentioned before) she doesn't even appear on my radar anymore. Every now and then I remember when she created the fake MySpace page, and then I remember how much I want to go make fun of her poetry. The least she could do is use halfway decent grammar.

Maybe I'm just bitter because she has 5.3 billion friends who all fawn over her terrible poetry because they wouldn't know good literature if it latched itself onto their right legs and called them all George, while clearly I'm a literary genius who is much more deserving of their praise and adoration. Yeah, I think that's part of it. Stupid subconscious jealousy. Oh well. At least I can laugh at it, I reckon. =P