I am Emily and the above story is completely irrelevant to anything.
I guess I'm starting this blog just as a daily/weekly journal to pretend people read the strange and normal things that happen to me. And I guess starting one of these off with "I guess.." is a horribly cliche attempt to convince a reader you could care less about the "something" your doing - even though if that were really the case you wouldn't even be doing it. Which is why I'll start again...I guess.
When you meet someone or read something by someone, the typical introduction is them first diluting their intelligence and then stating how "average" they are. Telling someone that you're "just an average person" is like looking at the color purple and saying, "Oh pshhh. That's just an average color". The person you say this to ought to have a response along the lines of, "That really makes no fucking sense at all. What could be average about a color; they're all different". Every human being's life is vivid and complex and disparate from all others - it's just that one person doesn't have enough time to care about everyone else' shit.
So I won't lie and say that I'm an average person - partially because no one can say what that really entails - and mostly because I like to believe that I do not constitute the requirements of said average person and neither do any of the people I associate with. My life is the most delicious dinner I've ever eaten; my favorite landscape of all my childhood travels; a reassuring, untouchable feeling I get when my best friend has fallen asleep before I have; all of the heartbreaks in foreign cars (one of the queerest trends of mine); and the nostalgic smell of my better grandparents' house. My life is awesome, exciting, upsetting, unpredictable, and....above all.... different from anyone else.
Having said that, I don't want to put others under the influence that my life is at all interesting. There are people who have met or attempted to meet most of today's world leaders. There are people who have visited hundreds of countries (and in saying that, I don't even know if I should exclude North Korea because, ya know, maybe there IS a way out aside from dying). There are people who hunt mythical creatures, glitter-bomb political figures, change their gender, or vandalize.
It is a Friday night: I am currently sitting on my bed (4 ft off the ground), in sweatpants, a men's XL shirt, and a bra that barely counts, gripping a box of Cheez-It's, worrying solely about some TV show relationship gleaming with ironic potential, and subconsciously praying that I won't fall off of my bed tonight. I am literally setting a scene of a person who has done nothing of true importance with his/her life...YET!
You see how I did that? I just eased my way into the "goals" segment of this predictable introductory blog post. I guess a more interesting word I should have use would have been "finagled" - mostly because I know at least a slight minority would have to look it up and that's an entertaining thought.
So having already finagled my way here, I should state first that I am a creativity-based creature who holds almost zero relevant skills. An exclusively deep emotional-thinker - I have varying passions and hold no restraints against any of them. Which is why it is so appropriate that I am an Art major (Actually a double major paired with Marketing because I'm no idiot to really think that a 2-D concentration will keep food in my fridge). In a 5-year projection, I see myself in a bustling city, on my way to my job as an advertiser or editor, wearing vintage and condemning my fellow young people who scoff at their fellow young people just because some mainstream things are irresistible. I pretty much have it all down to the details. This seems like a horrible way to go about life, but I am building a path which will hopefully lead me to that exact spot in time. The most important thing is that I take into account all of the unpredictable events that are bound to occur.
In all honesty, all I know is that I want to graduate from CMU within the next 2-3 years. Even love is a whole other quandary that, withal being almost 2 decades old, I still cannot begin to apprehend and as far as it being in my plans...well, until further notice, it shall remain unscathed territory.
Going out on a tangent: If everyone's love fantasy came true, then I would be able to time travel and work things out with 1980's Lindsey Buckingham. I'd never stop thinking about my tomorrows with that guy. Just look upon his utter perfection:
...you're welcome. And for those who understood the pun, you're music taste is almost excellent.
Anyway...
I keep scrolling up, too. It's okay.
Admittedly, it's hard to talk about your future when the lights are off and you're only wearing unplugged headphones because what if your smoking roommate walks in and asks you to smoke and you just want to ignore them because you don't smoke but you're still cool because you can't hear over your headphones....which aren't actually serving any purpose aside from visual deceit. In that moment that's all you can worry about because you know you'll be fine tomorrow, at least. One thing I have taken a while to fix in my head is that in the end, I will always be fine. Even if things are so shitty that I can't picture anything getting any worse - even if I'm bleeding out next snow slush and worried about the slush getting in somehow or how much it's going to hurt once I get inside and my fingers start to thaw - there will always be something I can do or someone that I can go to.
So this whole thing is the "Flowing Along" plan. I'm going to take any opportunity given to me, say yes to all...er...most...proposals, and try to find something I've never done before every day. I'll list one activity I've never done with each post and eventually form a list. I'll have to finish those things by the end of the year and write a new story about my experience and with whom I experienced it with and all their shit and why they're such an amazing person.
That is why I named my blog Room 4 Elephants. I want to do things differently and I want to be able to talk about those things in full disclosure. And I think writing is where I feel safe enough to achieve all of those things.
So...one thing that I have never done before:
YOGA
And here I sit for ten minutes contemplating what my sign-off will be.
Do something...? That's really awful. Cheesy. Yikes. I probably don't even need one.
One last thought to entertain:
Some animals have pouches. Like pockets... Could I get this Cheez-It box inside there? And exactly how many office pens could fit into the average pouch?
(I'd like to think if this had a soundtrack, here is where Midnight City by M83 would start).
Night.
