InsaneJournal

Emma Morrison had a very typical, boring childhood. She was the elder of two daughters growing up in an upper-middle class family. She lived in a quiet, small town. Went to a quiet, small prep school. Emma decided at a very young age that she was not a fan of quiet or small. In her group of friends, she was the one who always suggested the insane ideas that, for whatever reason, everyone seemed to go along with. For example: let's drag race Barbie cars while it's raining and SEE WHAT HAPPENS! Hey. It ended with some bruises and a concussion, but it was so worth it.

She was prone to being a bit of a drama queen, going through phases where everything, even something as small as a paper cut, was either the best or the worst thing EVER. She was also a bit of a clown. She acted out in class, always doing something silly to make everyone around her laugh. She didn't hide emotions and wore her heart on her sleeve. She'd laugh if she wanted to laugh, cry if she wanted to cry and was always completely honest about what she thought. This also earned her a reputation of being a bitch. People don't necessarily like to hear the truth all the time, do they? But the way she looked at it? If she was about to go out into public in something that made her ass look huge, she'd want someone to tell her! So she extended that same courtesy to everyone else. She was the wild child. She was a rebel. And she was very proud of who she was.

In high school, she met her very best friend and dear God does she adore him. He humors her, going along with her no matter what crazy scheme she's concocted. He was the love of her life, in a manner of speaking. If it came down to it, she'd rather be with him than anyone else. For that matter, she feels more comfortable with him than anyone else.

It wasn't long before she decided she was tired of the life she was living. It was time to go to college. She applied everywhere from Point Park College in her own hometown to Ithaca in New York, but decided on Boston Conservatory. After all, it would give her just enough to cover tuition and room and board. Her senior year of college, she got an apartment of her own, along with her apprenticeship to the Boston Playwrights' Theatre. She took the job on full time after graduation and has kept it to this day. Quite frankly, she fell in love with the city of Boston and never wants to leave.

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Will someone please explain to me the appeal of sparkly vampires? I really don't understand. At all. If they were female vampires, it would make sense. Some men like their girls with glitter and whores will have their trinkets. I was under the impression that if you were male and you sparkled, you had a bunch of besties to go mall trotting with, not millions of adoring fangirls. Modern day fiction perplexes me. Even Harry Potter was horrible. Enjoyable, but horrible. EMO CAPSLOCK OF RAGE Harry was just too much. I'm sorry. I can't understand how it got as popular as it did.

Every once in a while, I'll come across a new book that I enjoy. Well. Newish and bookish. It's a comic. And I...probably shouldn't like it as much as I do. In fact, it's probably scary that I like it as much as I do. But Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (and all other creations of Jhonen Vasquez)? Pure. Genius. It's full of dark humor and a satirical view of today's society. And a bit of self-mockery on the part of Vasquez. Oh and let's not forget the comic relief in the form of the Adventures of Happy Noodle Boy. Seriously. I read it and I can't stop laughing, then stopping myself a few seconds later and feeling absolutely horrible for laughing. At any rate, it's a must read, in my opinion.

Or perhaps my time spent with my books is slowly dwindling my mental faculties. After all, it's not right for a woman to read. Soon she starts getting ideas and thinking.

I probably should get out more. ._.

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Saint Valentine, the patron saint of love, plague, bee keepers and greeting card manufacturers. Yet another Saint's day that capitalism has taken and, in this case, turned it into a pain in the ass for single females and taken males alike. Who would have thought that this would cause trouble? Everyone with half a mind. Then again, what does it matter? They're getting their money anyway. It's funny to see what such a frivolous holiday does to people.

The greeting card companies stole it from the Catholics, who stole it from the pagan Romans. Woo Lupercalia! The festival of the She-wolf. The one who suckled Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome. Personally? I think we'd be better off celebrating that than this supposed "Season of Love". It's not even really about love anymore. It's about seeing who can give the best presents. Greed has ruined every holiday.

People need to start remembering that it's not the price of the gift that matters: it's the thought that goes into it. If I had a choice between a macaroni necklace or a diamond ring? I'd take the macaroni necklace, as long as it was made with love.

Sometimes I wish I was born in the time of Jane Austen. Then? Guys didn't do things just to get laid. Why? Because in order to get laid, you had to get married first. And it was ages of courting before you were allowed that right. Of course, I wouldn't be a fan of wearing corsets or being trapped inside doing needlepoint all day, but at least the romance was real romance.

...

Well hello, cynicism. How are you today?

Maybe I need to get laid.

--

I'm seriously contemplating moving to New York again. As an actress it's...where I really need to be. I wouldn't be able to see my family and friends at any time and that would be horrible. But that's what phones are for, right? And it's only four hours driving distance from New York City to Boston. I could make it. If I want to be a Broadway actress I kind of have to get my break on Broadway.

On the other hand, I have a stable job here. I have friends and a family. I have a roof over my head. I'm safe and I can still do what I love. I'm just not making much money for it, and the other job covers that.

Ugh.

I just don't feel whole. Something is missing and I don't know what it is. But I'm afraid that if I spend all my time looking for it, I'll lose it. I'm not making any sense whatsoever.

I could always make another trip. Stay there for a week or so, try to get into some auditions. It would have to wait until mid-March, after Guys and Dolls but...hm.

Carter, could I crash with you if I did?

--

So keep breathing, 'cause I'm not leaving you anymore.