See Marisa?

Best, I miss you so much.

I miss knowing that you were nearby, that at any given moment we could get together, bake cookies and eat enough batter to leave us crying in pain.

I really miss you coming over to my house. I used to think that you came by to see me, but I quickly learned my lesson. As I would go downstairs to get some water or talk to Tina, you'd climb right into my bed and go to sleep. It didn't even annoy me...I know how comfortable my bed is.

I miss asking if I can read your texts. I miss asking if I could respond to them for you. I miss you saying no. Or the times when you actually let me.

I miss singing Ahora Es.

I miss singing Swing.

I miss singing Title and Registration.

I miss going to the YMCA to work out, then trying to decide where to grab lunch afterwards. It was almost always Subway. I remember that one time when we went to the Y and you left right in the middle of the work out because you wanted to buy an apple. You actually drove to Randalls. I didn't understand, but I miss it.

The only thing I don't have to miss is being best friends with you, because that hasn't changed. I'll admit, I was scared that it would. I didn't think that we could stay close and keep telling each other everything about everything with so many miles between us. I greatly underestimated the connective powers of Skype and Facebook, and the strength of our friendship. Now I can tell though, it's pretty strong stuff. I don't have to worry about whether or not we'll be friends forever because if we can be best friends in different countries, we can be best friends no matter what.

Thanks for listening to my crappy guitar playing today. I can't wait to see you!

Love, Emil. Emilz. Plu. Whatever...

(te gusta chocolate?)

Lazy

"Our perception of joy, fear, pain, and beauty are sharpened or dulled by the way we rub against time"- Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts

I've become so lazy and apathetic lately. It's as if my mind is stuffed with cotton. My interests, creativity, and desire to do well are all hidden amongst the piles of dirty clothes I leave haphazardly on my floor. It's far too early to have senioritis...and frankly the sensation feels more serious than that. I'm out of sync and out of line, completely off-track from the person I was. Carelessness with homework is just the beginning of it- I don't even make time for the things I love anymore. Rather than read, write, run, or work on relationships, I watch the life of Kingwood pass through Facebook's eyes. I'm not even that upset, day-to-day, about moving anymore. I think it's just habit. Time to sharpen those senses!

Also, meet my husband (:

Emily Flynn...it sounds nice.

The Best Night.

My last night in Kingwood was by far my favorite. I don't know that words could do it justice.

The end of a beautiful trip was coming too rapidly. I was scared of the end from the very beginning, and it had finally caught up with me. Being with my sister and brother-in-law and taking in the unique beauty that is Lake Livingston was the highlight of week one. Week two was a blissful blur of reunions and multiple trips to Sonic. I was home, restored, healed, confident, assured, and grounded. But it all passed too quickly, and the happy memories ended before I could properly engrave them into my mind. I felt my heart sinking with the sun on that Saturday night, with the 5:30 am flight fast approaching. Lindsey, Kate, Natalie and I were all congregated with Morgan on her zebra-clad bed, and I think they felt the time slipping as well. Maybe that's why they went and bought the Red Bulls, and maybe that's why Kate stayed behind with me as I packed. I know it was out of love that Natalie, who is half-Mexican, FINALLY allowed me to give her a Chonga makeover. She endured the thick coats of foundation and even the artificial eyebrows, and played the part freakishly well as Lindsey shot what can arguably be considered the most hilarious photo shoot this world has ever seen. We didn't sleep, but we had several empty cans of Red Bull and laughter-induced tears to show for the lost hours of rest.

3 am rolled around and the five of us piled into Kate's mom's minivan (complete with automatic sliding doors) and headed out for the Waffle House. Time finally began to slow and give me a short reprise from it's torture; we weren't in a hurry. It was one of the best meals I've ever had. I think waffles take on some sort of magic quality in the hours of early morning. And so did we. We laughed so much as we sat around that greasy table. Someone peed their pants. From laughter. Seriously. And we may or may not have found her in the Waffle House bathroom, desperately trying to wash out her capris in the sink. (This person's identity has been censored due to my desire to remain friends with her). It was the best breakfast of my life, and I don't think the calories count when you are that happy.

I've never felt as loved as I did when we arrived at the airport. Kate lapped the place an infinite number of times, searching for the short-term parking so that I wouldn't roam the lonely airport alone. Natalie yelled directions at her- everyone was laughing. When we finally parked, everyone insisted on carrying some piece of my luggage. Lindsey charged ahead with my ticket and found my check-in area. It was as if I was their child. "Does she have a luggage tag for this?", Morgan demanded, gesturing towards my camera bag. "Here, let me do it...Emily, what's your contact information", asked Lindsey, pen at the ready. They insisted on taking care of me from start to finish. Even the long security line was made fun by my faithful group of well-wishers. They remained behind after our last embraces, watching my progress in the torturous line and waving until I was out of sight. I can't explain how much it meant to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for that night and for that entire beautiful week in Kingwood.

I'm back in California and trying to stay positive. I'm happier here, now that I know I really do exist at home. God has blessed me with some incredible friends who are teaching me a great deal. I know I'm here for a reason, but I have to be willing to keep my mind and heart open and LOOK for it.

"It's interesting how you sometimes have to leave home before you can ask difficult questions, how the questions never come up in the room you grew up in, the town in which you were born. It's funny how you can't ask difficult questions in a familiar place, how you have to stand back a few feet and see things in a new way before you realize nothing that is happening to you is normal"

-Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts

How do I go back?

Meredith introduced me to a good song.

Oh my dear
What a phase we have become
Oh my sweet
What a phase we will become
How do I go back to california?
How do I leave the green fields here?
Warm nights in your sweet magnolia
How do I leave the green fields here?
Oh my friends
What a love trip it's been
Many nights and the friends that we have made
How do I go back to california?
How do I leave the tall trees here?
Warm nights in your sweet magnolia
How do I leave the green fields?
How do I go back to california?
How do I leave the green fields here?
Warm nights in your sweet magnolia
How do I leave the green fields here?

Resolutions.

I can be a terribly lazy and uncommitted person. I never take the initiative, and I don't challenge myself. Hopefully a few New Year's Resolutions can help mold me into a more responsible person. Sharing them here will help me feel accountable no matter how modest my following may be.

1) Study His word. Being the uncommitted person that I am, keeping up with my Daily Walk Bible proved to be a difficult and daunting task. Yet it's foolish to refuse 15 minutes of study and reflection to the One who gave me everything, especially when I claim a desire to walk beside Him.

2) Journal. Blogs are fantastic, but there is something far more romantic (and private) about keeping a real journal. Plus I've never actually completed one. If writing is truly my passion I must be willing to work at it, how else can I improve? Just four sentences a day, that's all I'm asking of myself.

3) Blog at least three times a week. Must work on that commitment.

4) Stay in touch. I want the people I love and miss to know the great extent of my care. However, I also want to improve my relationship with those whom I see daily, for they are just as much a beautiful part of my world.

5) Stay in shape. meh.

6) Choose reading over other forms of entertainment. Never in this world has there been a lovelier pastime.

I'll Be Home For Christmas!

Maybe not in that house that I love so dearly.

But I'll be back in the place I know best.

My parents are excited to go back!

But they expressed regret that we "won't be home on Christmas day".

I said I disagree, we will be home.

"Home is wherever I'm with you".

The Rainbow Bridge

inspired by a Norse legend

By the edge of a woods, at the foot of a hill,

Is a lush, green meadow where time stands still.

Where the friends of man and woman do run,

When their time on earth is over and done.

For here, between this world and the next,

Is a place where each beloved creature finds rest.

On this golden land, they wait and they play,

Till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day.

No more do they suffer, in pain or in sadness,

For here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness.

Their limbs are restored, their health renewed,

Their bodies have healed, with strength imbued.

They romp through the grass, without even a care,

Until one day they start, and sniff at the air.

All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back,

Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack.

For just at that instant, their eyes have met;

Together again, both person and pet.

So they run to each other, these friends from long past,

The time of their parting is over at last.

The sadness they felt while they were apart,

Has turned into joy once more in each heart.

They embrace with a love that will last forever,

And then, side-by-side, they cross over… together.