The year that ran away with me.

I took this picture in March. Yesterday. 2009 was surreal. A roller coaster. In a good way. A beautiful way.

Welcome new year, always glad you came.

So don't knock it, don't knock it.

Today Meagan gifted me with this poster. And I found this hilarious quote from the drummer, Nathan:

"When we signed the deal with RCA, it was just me and Caleb. The label told us they were going to put a band together, but we said, 'We're going to buy our little brother a bass, he's a freshman in high school. Caleb will teach himself the guitar. Our cousin Matthew played guitar when he was 10 and I'll play drums.' The record label agreed".

Note that none of them were currently playing anything at the time.

Also, apparently they kidnapped their cousin, Matthew, in order to get him to join the band. Classic.

Now you can't get enough...given a chance, I wanna be somebody.

You look like money.

I got an electric blanket for Christmas. It is an absolute dream. I can't fathom how I slept without it. My life is basically complete. You know, except for Bear World and such.

Also, Traci gave me these headbands. I love them so much that it hurts. And I know that love is for people and not for things, but that is very difficult to remember when I look at these.

Kimberlyn gave me a ballerina barbie for Christmas. Which is pretty great. Especially after we had this conversation, two days before Christmas:

Kimberlyn: I got you a Christmas present.

Me: You did?

Kimberlyn: Yes, it's a princess barbie. No wait, it's a ballet barbie. Don't tell.

Me: The only person that you aren't supposed to tell is me.

Kimberlyn: Oh...I won't tell you again.

So I got her "Beach Party Ken" for her birthday. She is currently trying to guess what it is. I'll never tell.

And I bought these shoes as a birthday present to myself. Which is tomorrow. My birthday, that is.

I want to have a pillow fight.

A conversation that I had on August the twentieth. A Thursday. Driving back to Pocatello after Iron and Wine, as it were:

Matty: I made you a pillowcase.
Me: You made me a pillowcase?
Matty: Yes.
Me: Why?
Matty: Because that is what you do when people go away.
Me: But I haven't gone anywhere. You are the one who left.
Matty: Exactly. I'm surprised that you haven't made me one.
Me: You want me to make you a pillowcase?
Matty: Well, yes. Of course.
Me: Okay then.

So I made him a pillowcase. Unfortunately I never photographed it before I mailed it to him. But it is pretty great. It is a crazy mess of colors and has a large yellow cut-out of Idaho on it. However, I was beginning to doubt the existence of a Matt-made pillowcase for me. As he always "forgot" to give it to me.

I doubt no longer. Apparently yellow is a theme.

He also gifted me with cat band aides, tights, and a mug with my letter on it. He knows me surprisingly well. As these are all things that I use daily. Especially with my aversion to pants. And, of course, my love of cats. And remember when I broke my cow mug? Parfait.

The trees were on fire.

"I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness." John 8:12

Crazy on you.

Sometimes Sarah likes to pretend to be asleep. So today when Melissa and I pick her up from school she gets in the car and we go through the routine a couple times.

Me: Sarah, are you sleeping?
Sarah: Giggle, yes...giggle, giggle...
Me: Are you faking?
Sarah: No...giggle...
Me: Yes you are.
Sarah: No, you are.

Until she really does fall asleep.

Me: Are you sleeping?
...No answer
Me: (after poking her) Are you faking?
Sarah: No!
Melissa and I laugh.
Sarah: Leave me alone!
Melissa and I laugh harder.
Sarah: Stop laughing!
More laughing.
Sarah: Stop laughing! It makes me crazy!

She also likes to ask me "What are you doing here?" so I ask her right back and she always says "I live here" and I say "I live here, too". And then she just laughs at me.

Back home again.

I'm going home today. At last. Melissa told me that I come home so much it's like I never left. But believe me, I left. And now I am coming back. Just like the plague.


Where I will sleep in my bed.

Where I will work at Down East.

Where I will walk Clive everyday.

Where I will go to "Smith's" every chance I get.

Where I will get eaten by this couch.

Where I will do all of my favorite things, and be with all of my favorite people.

Fights were for fun.

I have all these tiny cuts all over my hands. And I haven't the faintest idea as to where or what they came from.

So far around the bend.

Candy canes carry very positive associations for me.

So positive that I did a mini photo shoot with a candy cane and myself. I call this one "coy candy cane". Alliteration rules the world. That and boredom. Obviously.

Also, I very nearly tripped on a blind guy's cane this afternoon. He was tapping about and I just barely escaped with the help of some fancy footwork.

Please read the letter.

Postcards are a dying art form.

Which is quite a tragedy, really.

They are so beautiful. And getting mail is beautiful.

My sister, Melissa, taught me to love all things postal. Especially postcards.

So recently I have been making my own postcards. Here are a few of my latest batch. Each carefully crafted with a specific person in mind.

Last week I received the loveliest of surprises from my dear friend Matty. I perfect postcard made by him for me. I have also been making friendship bracelets and I taught him over Thanksgiving. I am so proud of my pupil.

We are starting a postcard revolution. Spread the love.

Send a postcard.

I keep my pack together.

I played Parcheesi for the first time last night. I was the tigers.

And I got doubled pounced by Tanner. Two of my tigers sent crying home in on fell swoop.

Also I had a hard time remembering the rolling doubles rules. But Robbie and Tanner were kind enough to remind me. After I had already moved my tigers.

Oh, and the little green guys are yaks. Not wildebeests. Because wildebeests do not live in India.

I always hear about Parcheesi and people playing it. Naturally I was very curious. I didn't even know it was the classic game of India.

So last night was like a fulfilling of a life long dream.

White girls of the north.

There is ice on the inside of my window.

My world is a slip 'n slide.

Literally. There is so much ice. I am afraid.

So there is this random armchair that moves around campus. This week I managed to convince darling Debra that she should sit in it. And I would take pictures to document.

So here she is, giving her best "come hither to my armchair" look.

Also, I just made myself pancakes. And they were absolutely supreme. The pancakes of dreams. On that note, I had a dream last night that my Marmee dearest decided to give me a middle name. And that name was "Ruthotti", not "Jane". Which reminds me of biscotti.

Emily Ruthotti Roberts. I guess at least it has alliteration going for it.

He doesn't get you're human like I do.

This is possibly the most humorous thing I have ever seen. I mean come on, "But he sparkles, and I'm so hairy"? Classic. And I don't even really like Twilight. Or Taylor Swift. Speaking of which, this is so fitting considering that Taylor Lautner is dating Taylor Swift. No one knows celebrity gossip like I do.

Let them eat pie.

So apparently I was supposed to put the turkey in the refrigerator a couple of days ago. Which seems simple enough. Except for the part where I put it in the freezer. It appears that turkey must defrost.

I have quite possibly ruined Thanksgiving.

Call me now baby, I'd come a running.

I'm bad at games.

In my high school French class we would play "around the world" with French vocabulary. Whenever I knew the word I would of course have to gasp. By the time I had finished gasping the other person would usually have said the word.

Last night at family home evening we played "spaz". The person to get rid of all their cards first wins. I had most of the deck for most of the game. The saddest part was that Adam beat me, even after he took pity on me and took all but ten of my cards. Yes, the entire deck still ended in my hands. But a heart-felt "thank you" to Adam, for at least attempting to help me keep my dignity intact.

It's not just games. I am actually rather terrible at most things. Which is probably where the joke "the only thing Emily is good at is being bad at everything" originated. If nothing else I am very good at being bad at things. Which I think gives a little self-esteem boost to everyone else.

So if your self-esteem is ever lagging remember, I'm on call. I'll be there. For you.

And just in case you think I am throwing myself a pity-party, I'm really not. I like myself. A lot.

Clumsy is killing me.

I hit myself on the head with the ironing board this morning. Hard. As in I have a headache and there will probably be a bruise. It was nearly as bad as the time I pulled the iron down on top of myself.

Apparently my obsessive compulsive ironing is getting the better of me.

But neither of these occasions were as bad as the time I jabbed myself in the eye with the fire extinguisher.

In which I read "Harris and Me" again and laugh so hard that I choke on my own spit.

In which I meet Harris and am exposed for the first time to the vagaries of inflation.

In which I become a farmer and meet Vivian.

Wherein Harris introduces me to work and I meet Ernie.

In which war is declared and honor established.

Where I meet Buzzer and learn the value and safety of teamwork.

Wherein I learn some more physics, involving parabolic trajectories, and see the worth of literature.

In which we educate two horses, and I learn that the one blamed is not always the one guilty

In which I discover love only to have my heart broken and in revenge I fry Harris's business.

In which Harris discovers speed...and the value of clothing.

-Harris and me, Gary Paulsen (Of The Hatchet fame. Which is actually quite random seeing as how Harris and Me is hilarious and The Hatchet is the most boring book know to man.)

Heads up, you hold me up.

This weekend my bestie Traci came for a little visit. It was absolutely splendid. We got a cupcake, talked about celebrity gossip, and bought wax fangs. Which I often remember having as a younger child. They are actually sort of disgusting, but a classic nonetheless.

Also, we saw a squirrel. So of course I took pictures of her. I love squirrels. Regular squirrels, ground squirrels, and flying squirrels alike. And squirrels cannot carry rabies. Which is always a plus, I think. The really tragic thing for squirrels is that they can live up to twenty years in captivity but only average about two years in "the wild". This is due mostly to cars.

On a random note, my camera is a canon so I am always wanting to take pictures of animals. You know, "wildlife as canon sees it". Squirrels and ladybugs make up the majority of "wildlife" around Rexburg.


Anyway, doesn't really get any better than Traci. And I would hate Pocatello if she were not there. Which means a lot because I love Pocatello.

Call me animal.

I need to stop making weird faces at people. Seriously, it's becoming a problem.

Pushing me around and pushing me away.

Clive likes to think that because he matches the brown couch the brown couch belongs to him. This thought of his is incorrect. The brown couch must be won. My eyes are on the prize. Mere matching will do nothing to secure brown couch ownership. Sip on that, Clive.

Also, it appears that Clive is weighing in at over one hundred pounds. Giving explanation as to why I like to refer to him as "Clive Fat-Fat".

Anyway, he takes up a large portion of the brown couch. At one point Melissa and I were both sitting on the ground after being bullied out of our small corners on the couch.

We'll ride painted horses.

Traci and I have been wanting to make fried candy bars ever since fair season. So we finally did on Halloween. They actually turned out quite splendidly, despite all the doubting voices surrounding us.

Also, I carved a pumpkin. My family likes me enough to save me a pumpkin. In spite of all the subtle hints.

And dressed up as a luchador. Devin sent each of us a mask last year. They're pretty classic. Almost as classic as my "scary pig" mask.

Died of a broken heart.

"The game will be over, your Queen'll be dead. Once the Queen is dead the King is useless.... What's that about?... I don't know. maybe he's too depressed to fight. He really loved her, you know."

Melissa and I have been searching for the origin of this quote for months upon months. It has constantly been in the back of my mind, lurking, never giving me a moments peace.

I have re-read countless books, re-watched hundreds of movies. I have tried to retrace every footstep. But that is impossible.

I have googled it. I have searched loads of quotes.

I have asked nearly every person I know if they have heard it, desperate.

I have spent sleepless nights wondering if I would spend the rest of my life not knowing, if I would die not knowing. My worst fear became that I would never know.

I cannot let things go. I wonder until I know.

And today I figured it out. It is from "Penelope". And I breathed one huge sigh of relief. Today I walk in the light.

Devin means poet.

I just googled my brother's name and the first thing to pop up was a link to a poem he wrote years ago called "Ode to Oatmeal". Which is hilarious. I miss that kid.

Eyes can't look at you any other way.

My life in six words.

Things end badly, make good stories.

Yeah. That pretty much sums it up.

I've got nothing to do today but smile.

Last night I got a telephone call from my puppy dog, Clive. Somehow Meagan's phone was in the backyard and he picked it up. And called me. We got bonds, baby, just try to break them.

I love the sound of you walking away.

Clive and I, we are are creatures of habit.


Yes, Clivers (Not to be confused with "cleavers" though that may be more accurate considering the state of my hands after he is done walking me.) and I still go for a walk every morning that I am home. Even when it snows. I like when things are consistent.

Don't leave a thing behind.

Sometimes I look back at the pictures I have taken and feel a little sad that there is no evidence of me in most of them. It's like I never existed.

But I guess sometimes that is the price you have to pay to have memories of everyone else. Having none of yourself.

Roses by the stairs

Sometimes it is the small things that make my life. Like how my mom bought me Tillamook cheese, the Cadillac of cheeses, my favorite cheese. Or how Rachel brought me a cupcake. Snicker doodle, no less. I've just realized that I have been using food as an example a lot recently. Like the whole crumble cake and stuffing thing. I really do like other things. Besides food, I mean. Like stickers, I bought some really fabulous stickers the other day. And the circus. I've never actually been to a circus but I just instinctively know that I would love it. Which is why joining the circus is my back-up plan in case school doesn't work out. Which isn't really the point.

Comme ci Comme ca

So yesterday this guy comes up to me as I am walking to class and starts talking to me in French. I had never seen him before. So we have a small conversation en Francais and he leaves. And I am left completely baffled as to how he knew that I know a little (un peu) French. A few minutes later I realize that I still have my textbook from my previous class in my hands. French, as it were. Mais bien sur.

Love remains the same.

I still eat chips and salsa for every meal. Nothing to report other than that, really.

She's leaving home.

Today I said good-bye to my dog. Clive, the dog that I used to ''walk''. Every day. The dog that I say that I hate but really secretly love.

And then I said good-bye to Moose, and the chill chills, and Meagan, and my blue eyed baby, my darling parents, and everyone else that I openly love.

And then I left.

But I'll come back. Just like the plague.

With a whimper.

I feel like my world is crumbling. Yesterday was my last day at Down East, Melissa is in Washington D.C., and my room is (relatively) clean. And, as if to confirm the crumbling, yesterday I dropped my cup with the dancing cows that say ''Hell-o'' on it. Shattered, or at least broken into multiple pieces.

No matter, crumbling can be good, as in the case of crumble cake. Or stuffing. Stuffing consists of mostly bread crumbs and is absolutely delicious. It is one of the only things I eat on Thanksgiving, turkey aside. And occasionally I enjoy the picturesque. Which is to say that I enjoy crumbling ruins because almost nothing is more picturesque than crumbling ruins.

Besides, my cow cup was not even my favorite cup. Of the three cups (well, two, now that my cow cup is no more) that I use my favorite is my little purple one (it looks blue, but it is really purple). I have had it since I was nine. And before the purple, I had a pink one of the same design. I used it so much that it faded from pink to a sort of white. And so my mother replaced it with my purple cup. Purple, because that was my favorite color of the time. I am as close to loving this cup as one can be to loving an inanimate object. Love people, use things. So I plan to use this little cup until the day that I die.

Ma vie en Vogue.

My pile of Vogue was becoming quite large. So I decided it was time to recycle. Mostly because I have wounded myself on them many times in recent months.

So I cut out my favorite parts and bid my pile au revoir. And then I made collages. Which is a Roberts' family favorite. We all just love to cut and glue and make collages. In fact, making a collage is the only remotely crafty thing that I can tolerate.

I think they turned out just smashing.

Remember the raccoon?

That raccoon did damage. It did seem like a rather large raccoon, but as I don't spend a great amount of time in the company of raccoons I really couldn't say for sure.

Bedazzled with rhinestones!

So I went to Lagoon last week with Amy, Judson, Matty, Traci, and Robbie. Thank you Amy! I think we had a lovely day for the most part. It was quite hot, but still enjoyable.

Apparently Traci's favorite "ride" is the ski lift. I mean, is that even a ride?

Oh, and I got to feel Matty's lump again. We discussed the possiblity of a scar. I'm a bit jealous, actually.

Judson was very serious about the whole ride riding thing. And Amy was just a barrel of monkeys. Delightful.

Traci had some difficulties. Suing was threatened.

Traci loves to climb. She and Gideon should be besties.

We also went shopping at the gateway mall. And by "shopping" and "we" I mean that Traci went shopping while Robbie and I sat on various couches and chairs.

Also, I had a bizarre dream. Not this is unusual or anything, I am always have strange dreams. In my dream I had forgotten something in Utah so Robbie drove me back to pick it up. Somehow we ended up staying at Amy's house for family home evening. We decorated cats. Live ones. With rhinestones. The rhinestones were supposed to depict the mood of the cat. Whatever that means. Anyway, my cat was particularly vicious. He kept clawing at me and trying to bite me every time I stuck him with a rhinestone. I just couldn't understand why. It was all sorts of upsetting. Then Robbie drove me home and Matty came along for the ride. As we crossed the state line into Idaho Matty said "I miss Utah". This was even more upsetting than the cat. So I told him that Idaho was the best and that he should be more loyal to the land of his birth (which is ironic considering that I was born in Utah), which is when he told me that he hated Idaho and everything in it and that he couldn't wait to leave. Naturally I cried. And Robbie patted my back and told Matty to shut up. I really don't love Idaho that much. Not enough to cry and have to be consoled by Robb. Not that he would have actually comforted me in real life, he doesn't give sympathy, only pity.