tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9673499039714556392024-03-12T21:11:04.512-07:00EmilyLady's JournalBooks and libraries and stuff that goes on in a little town in a little state.EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-31015619186043425612010-02-06T17:31:00.001-08:002010-02-08T12:52:53.836-08:00Moving On To Another BlogI am giving up this blog for the blog under my Chinese name, Li Hua Bai. Would you like to see?<br /><br />http://bailihuari.blogspot.com<br /><br />It's still me, I promise. And of course you all can call me whatever you like. I like my Chinese name better but Emily's quite fine.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-71283735687909972592010-01-30T05:07:00.001-08:002010-01-30T05:09:39.651-08:00Helping SOS Children's VillagesEver thought about donating to SOS Children's Villages?<div><br /></div><div>I got this in an e-mail.<br /><div><br /></div><div>WARNING: The following passage contains a certain amount of disturbing information relating to child trauma.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 15px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><br /><em style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; ">"Go outside and study for a little while. "These are the last words Yannick, a little boy in Port-au-Prince, heard from his mother. He reluctantly went outside as he did not want to argue with his mother. Yannick and his mother lived alone in their small house. His father had left them a long time before. "Luckily" says Yannick "because he often hit me and my mom." Yannick and his mother, who had a disability that prevented her from walking properly, were a strong team in coping with their difficult everyday life. </em><br /><br /><em style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; ">Yannick remembers the moment his life changed..."The earth started to shake and there was a loud noise." And then the <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1264856633_1" style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; cursor: pointer; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial; border-bottom-color: initial; background-position: initial initial; ">little house</span> collapsed behind him, burying his mother who was unable to save herself because of her disability. The boy was horrified and ran out onto the street. He slept on the street and had hardly anything to eat until he was taken to an emergency aid camp. </em><br /><br /><em style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; ">On January 22, Yannick was taken in by the <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1264856633_2" style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: transparent; background-position: initial initial; ">SOS Children's Villages</span>, <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1264856633_3" style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; ">Haiti</span>. He has been very withdrawn and quietly observes what goes on around him. During the day he appears well, but during the night he has nightmares about his experience so severe that he wakes with chills and even vomits. The trained staff at SOS Children's Villages are helping Yannick. Although he is emotionally devastated and grieving, he knows and feels that he is in a safe place where people are taking care of him. </em><br /><br /><em style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; ">Many children like Yannick have arrived at SOS Children’s Village in Santo, Haiti, with more coming every day. Most are severely traumatized and need a warm hug in addition to food, water, and medical attention.</em></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">If you want to donate: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><a href="https://secure2.convio.net/scv/site/Donation2?idb=0&df_id=5060&5060.donation=form1&JServSessionIdr004=hiqepj4t91.app7a">https://secure2.convio.net/scv/site/Donation2?idb=0&df_id=5060&5060.donation=form1&JServSessionIdr004=hiqepj4t91.app7a</a></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Here's more information about SOS Children's Villages: <a href="http://www.sos-childrensvillages.org/What-we-do/Pages/default.aspx">http://www.sos-childrensvillages.org/What-we-do/Pages/default.aspx</a></div></div>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-25645377613900726322010-01-12T15:24:00.000-08:002010-01-12T15:25:24.351-08:00A Quick NoteLook, I'll be honest with you people. It's not cool that there are, currently, exactly 1,199 more stories on fanfiction.net for the new Star Trek film than there are for the Original Series. It's just not okay.<br /><br />This isn't to blame anyone. It's just, you should know, NOT OKAY.EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-90384297190486158032010-01-10T12:53:00.001-08:002010-01-10T13:10:57.066-08:00After a YUGA Meeting and a RunEDIT: No idea why the links are unclickable. Sorry.<br /><br />I feel way alive right now. Most days I like to walk but when I push my body to the limit and go for a real run, I feel great. And who was to think I wouldn't get chased by any dogs? I think this might be my day.<br /><br />Today was also a YUGA (http://www.planusa.org/content172382) <http: org="" content172382=""> meeting. This month, we plan to kick gender discrimination's ass (last month it was AIDS).<br /><br />One of the big things we've been working on is this: <http: org="" becauseiamagirl="" php="">http://www.planusa.org/becauseiamagirl/about.php. We held a whole discussion about what gender discrimination IS, WHY it happens, and to WHOM it happens ... because there are ideas people tend to have about men, of course, as well as women.<br /><br />My own examples varied: I suggested women were expected to invest more in aesthetics, for one (going to Kohl's this winter, I found turtlenecks on sale in the men's department for nine dollars. They were a rich, warm, durable material. But they had tissue-paper-thin turtlenecks for the same price in the women's department). My second example pointed to men touching and making inappropriate comments about female figures and feeling it's perfectly okay. I brought this up because I, like many women, have faced this in my own home.<br /><br />We also discussed that very important issue of women being drawn in by the media and needing to be a certain shape, and how numbers were extremely important in the modern world ... namely, the numbers on the scale!<br /><br />On the subject of body image, here is something I wrote and submitted anonymously to Teen Ink magazine during the fall. At this point I don't mind others knowing I wrote it: http://teenink.com/poetry/all/article/132677/Shoulds/<br /><br />And <http: com="" 2009="" 12="" html=""> was a blog entry I wrote not so long ago on celebrating oneself, and why it is most difficult to do.<br /><br />And now it's time to get back to my Sunday afternoon.<br /></http:></http:></http:>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-32856768235989425382010-01-08T11:52:00.000-08:002010-01-08T11:58:04.541-08:00Black Teeth and Gray Lice-Filled HairWhile going through old files on the computer I discovered proof that ten-year-old Emily had more than enough time on her hands.<br /><span style="font-size:12pt;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Hello. My name is Barney. I am a cool person. Let me tell you about my life. Well, here goes!</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:12pt;" ><o:p> </o:p></span> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">Every morning, Mom calls me downstairs. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">“Yo, Barns! Barnsey, Warnsey, get down here, ya little freak!”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">I do not listen.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">“I am not going to school today!” I shout back, mad.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">“Oh, yes you are!” she bellows.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">She comes into my room, maaad! “GO TO SCHOOL!!!!!” she screams at the top of her stupid lungs.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">“Make me!” I say back.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">She screams real loud.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">“Ha, ha! Mom, you are a mad dog!” I laugh. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">I chuckle.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">She turns poofy and red all over.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">I guffaw.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">She smokes at the ears.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!!!!!!”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">shouts my dear, sweet mother.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;">See how calm and beautiful she is? I love her black teeth and<span style=""> </span>gray, lice filled hair. I also admire how her bones are starting to crumble and her face is falling off. See what I have to deal with?<span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-60661818546821322182010-01-06T16:59:00.000-08:002010-01-06T17:01:24.527-08:00One Freak and One Who Is Freaked<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB86DpIAXG_kMXlxgFRF6-uwtL1ktHq1l47vvaKfvmUTlh47wNfv-lN4TiBWrnE7VnU722t7xgYWVMd5qiyc8twAF_8KzSqZvXax89vOc4q8LmQGMY7kW0FbIeq-Vc8uDJyeGcUKEMEXVR/s1600-h/P1010764.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB86DpIAXG_kMXlxgFRF6-uwtL1ktHq1l47vvaKfvmUTlh47wNfv-lN4TiBWrnE7VnU722t7xgYWVMd5qiyc8twAF_8KzSqZvXax89vOc4q8LmQGMY7kW0FbIeq-Vc8uDJyeGcUKEMEXVR/s400/P1010764.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423796511602327330" border="0" /></a>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-44196902112158064212010-01-01T06:15:00.000-08:002010-01-01T06:16:44.455-08:00"Call me ... COMMANDER FUNK."<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd-mYiYF_c1VJq8_g8RIh9tb8FWulRid9d4nn-LyVPxyS20-jLmM55uX9khghlVV0QsC5OkxkUVdDdgrO6coO_c7CbWsG5fIeN8C6TtXqEEFDkBdqiAMoqpDkstTDkO2oYqw7mDglf30X/s1600-h/P1010749.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421775136018636850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd-mYiYF_c1VJq8_g8RIh9tb8FWulRid9d4nn-LyVPxyS20-jLmM55uX9khghlVV0QsC5OkxkUVdDdgrO6coO_c7CbWsG5fIeN8C6TtXqEEFDkBdqiAMoqpDkstTDkO2oYqw7mDglf30X/s400/P1010749.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-28158526471308832072009-12-22T13:42:00.001-08:002009-12-22T13:48:09.877-08:00Snowy Library DayRhode Island is caked in snow. It's quite beautiful. Snow seems to be a vague improvement on this not-always-so-beautiful little state.<br /><br />Library work felt so good today. My insulin pump decided to take another stab at my well-being so the nice quiet library was such a relief ... it's so intellectual, so calculatory, so soothingly intensely relaxing, this shelving work ...<br /><br />Speaking of which, I was amused by this story -<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/03/health/views/03cases.html?_r=1&scp=7&sq=homeless+man+French&st=nyt">http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/03/health/views/03cases.html?_r=1&scp=7&sq=homeless+man+French&st=nyt</a> - which tells of a man apparently devoid of emotion but brimming with intellect, and who enjoyed his work shelving library books.<br /><br />So last night Benjamin, Jack, and I watched "Star Trek: The Next Generation" for the first time. We love the Original Series but have never watched TNG. Well, I suppose Jack had seem some, but Benjamin and I had never watched any of it. It gave me the creeps ... it was like a soap opera and a weird, nauseous, and vaguely charming spinoff. But in "Unification" - the woman who plays Amanda Grayson - YUCK!<br /><br />So now I have some books to pick up and must get back to me library thang.EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-85929360279450373322009-12-09T13:24:00.000-08:002009-12-09T13:41:21.175-08:00Even As We Are Told to Celebrate ...So what I wonder is who decided that the presence or lack of an epicanthal fold determines one's superiority.<br /><br />One thing that disturbs me more than anything else in life is when people pull at their eyes in imitation of Asian peoples. My father did that and my brother's friends do that. My father's parents used to refer to us as "the round-eyed people" and sneered that the "Chinamen" needed to learn English, that the way they spoke was absurd (to which I say, <em>jiba, qing lianxi ni de zhongwen!</em>). Recently I have been researching Epicanthoplasty - the spacing out of the epicanthal fold, or "Westernization" of the Asian eyelid.<br /><a href="http://www.healthline.com/blogs/diet_nutrition/2008/03/skinny-on-being-thin.html"></a><br />That same day I learnt from <a href="http://www.healthline.com/blogs/diet_nutrition/2008/03/skinny-on-being-thin.html">http://www.healthline.com/blogs/diet_nutrition/2008/03/skinny-on-being-thin.html</a> that being ridiculed for being thin happens too. Not just being fat.<br /><br />And then I found this disgusting rant on <a href="http://www.momlogic.com/2008/08/size_12_youre_fat.php">http://www.momlogic.com/2008/08/size_12_youre_fat.php</a>, which reminded me, once again, that I am the wrong shape and size.<br /><br />Weight. Color. The shape of the face, nose, and eyes. What Makes You You. Are these things to be celebrated?<br /><br />Yes.<br /><br />At least, that's what we hear from encouraging voices ... because they are THERE in the media, even if they are not always heard as clearly as the others. But I grew up reading American Girl Library and lots of books on how your shape and size and What Makes You You were meant to be celebrated and enjoyed, so I have heard that everyone is special and unique.<br /><br />But it's not always so easy.<br /><br />Are these really things to be celebrated? Sure. But we don't want to celebrate them. We want them to be different.<br /><br />It is not easy to celebrate who we are.EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-60049318039362855872009-12-06T17:25:00.000-08:002009-12-07T16:10:01.897-08:00Life. Ouch. Dead. Life. I Think. Bedtime.Well, I'm just about dead. It's not often I'm mightily pleased the weekend is over, but here we are.<br /><br />Saturday and Sunday both brought Community Chorus concerts. We kicked it off with "Seventy Six Trombones" which of course is a great song. You can't help but burst with wild energy when singing it ... or at least I cannot. And then we did a wonderful new ballad called "Tuimbe", which is in African-style tune about music in life's little joys ... and some of the not-so-little ones, too. One of the best was "The Tortoise and the Hare" ... you can listen to "Tuimbe" at http://listeninglab.stantons.com/item.php?stno=429408 but I'm sorry to admit I have no clue where you can find "Tortoise". It's a new song, and just for some reason seems to be nowhere on the Web. So the first half of the concert was really rip-roarin' good theatrical and silly stuff - except for "Anyway", which is dedicated to Mother Theresa (you know a song is cheesy when you're embarrassed for the saint to whom it's dedicated).<br /><br />(I should note that the poem - http://www.prayerfoundation.org/mother_teresa_do_it_anyway.htm - has been attributed to Mother Theresa but is thought to have originated with Dr. Kent M. Keith. The poem is quite nice. As a song it was cornball times ten multiplied by the radius of pi squared.)<br /><br />The second half was all Christmas. I've got to tell you, you know, I always hated "Santa Baby" until we actually sang it. It's so much fun to sing ... and "North Pole Rock and Roll" was a medley of a bunch of familiar songs: "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town", some old Elvis tune ... really, if I weren't 90 percent dead, I could tell you more. Maybe later. I'm dead. So very dead.<br /><br />Oddly enough, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was most difficult of all to sing: I take it everyone had his or her own idea of the traditional song ... it was very trying, that particular piece. And yes, we messed it up during both performances.<br /><br />(This is in fact a lie. Well, a half-truth. I mean, WE messed it up in the second performance. Yours truly messed it up in the first.)<br /><br />And today was a meeting with YUGA (<a href="http://www.planusa.org/content172382">http://www.planusa.org/content172382</a>) finalizing plans for the AIDS awareness Dance-a-Thon in Providence. Come to Local 121 on Saturday and watch me and a bunch of others dance our wee leetle hearts out. http://www.local121.com/home And join YUGA if you are a Youth who wants to be United with other youths for Global Action and Awareness.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-80787787439103436632009-11-21T18:30:00.000-08:002009-11-21T18:34:09.204-08:00(Only Two) Things to SayI have two things to say on this virutally starless Rhode Island night. (Some of the more country-ish, open-road towns have clusters and clusters of bright silver stars winking above, but not me here in this suburb.) The first:<br /><br />Why do people have to get high on marijuana when there are conversations to be had in Chinese? Nothing gives me a high like talking with someone in his or her (non-English) native language.<br /><br />The other:<br /><br /><br /><div>Okay, so you've got a seventeen-year-old girl in front of you. You haven't seen this girl in probably almost a year now, ever since she stopped attending Saturday evening church service. Last time you saw her, she was pale and skinny and eating nothing but carrots at the Wednesday night church suppers. Then she went into the hospital. Put two and two together. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>A tip for getting along with teenage girls, no matter how old you are: when you see the young lady a year later, don't tell her she looks like she's "gaining a pound or two", no matter how well you mean. </div><div> </div><div>Emily</div>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-67634222108614213942009-11-19T09:47:00.000-08:002009-11-19T09:59:23.799-08:00DreamingI've been meaning to share the other night's dream.<br /><br />It begins with a banned of drugged zombies at my door. Some of them I know; one is a cartoon character from <em>Family Guy </em>and a few are fellows from my past I had hoped never to see again.<br /><br />I am not entirely sure what to say.<br /><br />The zombie-druggies (I think they were really really drugged, not corpses - and one of them happened to be an addict from my past, so ...) pile into my front room and start sabatoging the house with their anti-social zombie etiquette. Some lie down on the couch and pass out. Others start moaning about their horrible, horrible lives to me. I begin playing counselor and offering advice. The zombies do not take the advice but instead decide to murder me. I run around for a while and, when the zombies are probably stumbling around confused somewhere in the house, I pick up the phone and dial 911.<br /><br />"Hello," burbles the male receptionist on the other end, who sounds remarkably like the head of the theater department I recently auditioned for, "You've reached 911 Services; please state your emergency; if you are experiencing fire, robery, or attempted murder, please stay on the line and we will send an ambulance and police officers your way; if you are experiencing medical trauma, please describe your symptoms and we will send medical assistance in the form of ambulances and physicians; for all other calls, please hang up now."<br /><br />"Hi, um, my hosue is full of drugged nuts who are chasing me around ... trying to kill me ... I think they might have had a little booze, too," I state calmly into the phone.<br /><br />"Oh please," says the receptionist. "This sounds like a great plot for a movie, but you're just spewing nonsense, and so -"<br /><br />"No, I'm serious. They've filled my house!"<br /><br />"I have better things to do," sniffs the receptionist, and slams down the phone.<br /><br />The rest of the dream is a blur - I leave the house to do some shopping or something. I come home and the drugged zombies have disappeared, leaving my brothers and mother in their places.<br /><br />"Hi," I say. "Did someone send police officers to get rid of the zombies?"<br /><br />"Um, no," replies my mother. Then she hesitates. "But they did send movie executives."EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-12523177603966630502009-11-18T17:41:00.000-08:002009-11-18T17:43:17.917-08:00Pink June<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrioLDPaAxZHoBtcK5-YtlN4zpWcEq3EAk78usoqdAtcVgowfGZ_vbQvTlvRvq_eL7ZSOKIgmIp6_puXUe8wPbfWfgO17TgGQxyK5skPGRwXBb2QMLaMRrfxiWZ9ooyzv8SmRhB7f-g7Lb/s1600/P1010328.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405624213182455378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrioLDPaAxZHoBtcK5-YtlN4zpWcEq3EAk78usoqdAtcVgowfGZ_vbQvTlvRvq_eL7ZSOKIgmIp6_puXUe8wPbfWfgO17TgGQxyK5skPGRwXBb2QMLaMRrfxiWZ9ooyzv8SmRhB7f-g7Lb/s400/P1010328.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-61950229345952651362009-11-05T06:12:00.000-08:002009-11-05T07:47:33.106-08:00Adopt Donald!<div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;"><table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="1" width="100%"><tbody><tr><td valign="TOP" bg style="color:#FFFFFF;"><i><br /></i></td><td width="245" valign="TOP"><b><i>Donald</i></b><i><br />May 1997<br /><br />Donald is a captivating, expressive and sensitive twelve year old boy who wants a forever family to call his own. He describes himself as being funny, silly, athletic, and just a fun kid. In the spring and summer, Donald loves to garden. He loves to grow tomatoes and eat fresh lettuce from the garden. Donald takes great pride in the vegetables that he can harvest. He enjoys many summer activities such as hiking, fishing, riding bikes, swimming, and camping. Indoors you may find him playing video games, watching movies, or playing cards. Donald's favorite movie is "Alvin and the Chipmunks". Donald loves to laugh and tell jokes. A childhood favorite book is Dr. Suess' "Green Eggs and Ham". His favorite sport is football, and he loves to cheer on the Patriots', Tom Brady!<br /><br />Donald would love the opportunity to be with a family that could teach him how to draw, play sports with him, and have snowball fights. Staying active and being outside is important to Donald. He enjoys helping adults do yard work and chores. He is an affectionate young boy who thrives on attention and being around those who have a good sense of humor. In school Donald is currently in the 7th grade. He enjoys and is good at Math but appreciates help with homework assignments.<br /><br />In Donald's words, "adoption is more difficult to talk about because I've been waiting for a long time. I don't think it will ever happen for me. I want a family that will always be by my side, watch sports with me, and play outside with me. I want a family that will make homemade mac-n-cheese with me, which is my favorite food. I dream about being in a family, going to Disney World, going to college, and becoming a policeman."<br /><br />Donald will thrive in a family that is structured, consistent and firm with their rules, but a balance of love and nurturing. He has been given many reasons not to trust adults in his life and will need a family that will not waiver in their commitment to him. He is hopeful there is a family for him, but scared that a family will give up on him, as they have in the past. Because of disappointments in his life, Donald will also need a family that is patient in allowing him to trust others again. Donald is a compassionate, cuddly and irresistible little boy who has the potential to grow and succeed, but needs a family who will believe in him and be committed to parenting him.<br /><br />Click </i><a href="http://www2.turnto10.com/jar/news/tuesdays_child/" target="_blank"><i>here</i></a><i> to view Donald's and other recent Tuesday's Child segments.</i></td><td valign="TOP" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "></span></p><div>That's right, Donald doesn't think he'll <i>ever </i>be adopted. No kid is ever too old to be adopted. </div><div><br /></div><div>Emily</div></td></tr></tbody></table></span></div>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-46176363108345875452009-11-03T13:09:00.001-08:002009-11-03T13:17:46.853-08:00Dolls. Looking for a Piggie. Shelving Books. And Also a Link About Suicide.Shelving library books is a <em>really </em>physical job. It's nice. Very nice. On the other hand, shelving the reference books gets to be really exhausting - it's mathematical, alphabetical, and physically taxing. So this has turned out to be a most interesting job, this paging at the library. Well, I'm glad to have it: volunteering is nice but I didn't even know I could have this as a job. For some reason, I guess, I supposed one had to be older than seventeen to be a page ...<br /><br />Yesterday brought me to the antique shop in the local village. And they had a Japanese doll in a case predating 1921. And so this made me determined to organize a proper place for my Old Dolls collection. And it looks great, the squat little shelf under the window full of dolls ... if I can get my camera working a little better I'll put up a photograph. They look really lovely.<br /><br />Today I would like to head down there again to pick up the most interesting-looking little ceramic piggie (I have a certain respect for pigs after reading the almost exclusively meat-related article in the Funk and Wagnall's encyclopedia set). But my blood sugar isn't in a cooperative mood this afternoon. This keeps me from walking into the village like I would otherwise be able to do.<br /><br />I found this today - thought it was definitely worth posting. It's a really helpful article on suicide prevention; goes very in-depth about just how suicidal people tend to feel beforehand. I liked it. And I appreciated how unbiased it was, versus some of the other articles on suicide out there.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.essortment.com/all/dealingwithsui_reel.htm">http://www.essortment.com/all/dealingwithsui_reel.htm</a><br /><br />I suppose I'll go back to researching atomic elemental formulas now. You know it's a bit tricky, figuring out just which element has which particular formula ...<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-8339344052936730292009-10-31T06:23:00.000-07:002009-10-31T06:39:11.922-07:00I Can Actually Eat Candy and Other Little Things About Halloween (Not Much, but Enough)I've never been much of a stickler for Halloween. Nor have I ever felt a particular fondness for it. It does have its fun charm, its uniqueness, its colorful personality. But I've never taken very well to stumbling around in the dark tripping over my own costume ... and holding a flashlight and candy bucket, and then of course not ever getting to consume all the candy. I've never been particularly fond of candy, either! Chocolate, of course, is wonderful. Chocolate is great. But anything really manufactured, anything really particular - like gummy worms or Sweet Tarts - I could never get into that stuff. Benjamin always rather liked the variety, though. And Jack has a gummy worm (and gummy bear) problem. We're stopping at Rite Aid every other night to refresh his supply.<div><br /></div><div>As a general rule, people tend to assume I've lost all interest in candy since I have juvenile diabetes. WRONG. If I take the right amount of insulin I can eat all the candy I want. This just happens to not be very much. I've only had diabetes for five years, and even before then I was just not into the candy. </div><div><br /></div><div>And also for your information, I had apple pie yesterday and three chocolate chip cookies the day before, without breaking any rules of any sort. Also balanced it out with fruits and vegetables and whole-wheat bread. So I am a winner.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jack is going as Ringo Starr this year (he has a Thing for Ringo). William has a Star Wars costume of some sort ... not quite sure exactly what he is; some sort of clone with a mustache. Ben is on the fence about getting dressed up. He's quite sure he isn't going out for tricks or treats but might like to dress up anyway. He's thinking of being a coal industry executive (as Ben will tell you, the coal industry is evil and you should support the Reality Coalition).</div><div><br /></div><div>I of course shall be watching "Catspaw" from Star Trek's second season. This is, in fact, the way to celebrate Halloween.</div><div><br /></div><div>So happy Halloween.</div><div><br /></div><div>Emily</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-38986914928115231862009-10-27T19:53:00.000-07:002009-10-27T19:59:39.058-07:00"A Nerd Like Me, a Nerd Like Me ..."Hey. I began work as an official library page today. I don't know how much it says about my personality that shelving books is my Dream Job, but there you go.<br /><br />Oh, not to mention the Star Trek audio-book that arrived at the library (per the request of yours truly) this afternoon. And then there was the checking out of <span style="font-style: italic;">Euclid's Elements</span>. My first boyfriend should be a nerd like me. That could be a song ... "A nerd like me, a nerd like me, all you've got to be is a nerd like me ..."<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-24501116027412748462009-10-20T13:45:00.001-07:002009-10-20T13:50:51.217-07:00Bengal RescueThis was posted on Fabulous Lorraine's blog ... I've never actually met a real Bengal cat but Lorraine has a great love and passion for them and says they really are some of the most wonderful animals on Earth. So:<br /><br /><em>Tuesday, October 20, 2009<br /></em><a name="8672608729547447701"></a><br /><em>SOS Bengal Rescue NOW!!!!!!!!<br />We have two really lovely Marble Benglas sisters who need help NOW. We have until Wednesday evening to save them, or they will die. Not be "Put to Sleep" or "Euthanized". They will die. They are healthy, later generation, no behavioral problems. None of this is their fault.</em><br /><br /><em>Ohio are you there? Anyone near enough to make it?</em><br /><br /><em>All you need to foster these kitties is a room, anywhere. And a love of animals. No special experience.You have heard me talk about Bengals, and the problems with Lear and Magic, and you have also heard me say that most Bengals are wonderful loving kitties. These girls are later generation, with NO problems. Magic and Lear are early generation, who came with a LOT of problems. There girls are very, very adoptable, but what they need NOW is a foster home who can take them until we can get them to a current foster, or to stay with you until we find them a home.</em><br /><br /><em>They have no time.</em><br /><br /><em>I can't make it in time. And I have no more rooms. Help them and I will owe you a Favor.</em><br /><br /><em>A Really. Big. Favor.</em><br /><br /><em>(Yes, like in Neverwhere.) </em>(Note: She's referring to her Boss's novel.)<br /><br /><em> From Janet at Great Lakes Bengal Rescue:</em><br /><em></em><br />I have a situation in which I need a foster home for two bengal sisters in Cleveland, OH NOW. Due to a domestic problem, hospitalization, divorce, and now a move, the girls have no home. I have until tomorrow evening or they will be euthanized. I have no foster homes in OH. Please crosspost any way you can and keep fingers and toes crossed for the girls. If you can help, please email or call me.Thanks, JanetJanet SaltzmanGreat Lakes Bengal Rescuewww.greatlakesbengalrescue.comFort Wayne, IN260-672-2204<br /><br /><em>Love and Please Help Me,</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Lorraine</em><br /><em></em><br />So tell people.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-28673145255184344322009-10-07T11:59:00.001-07:002009-10-07T12:01:49.114-07:00On Home-Schooling and Why It Might Possibly Be Just the Slightest Bit Less "Easy" Than Some ThinkI would like to drop this quick note from myself, a home-schooled senior in Rhode Island: I can't even begin to tell you how often I get, "WHOA, home-schooled, I wish I were home-schooled, it must be so fun, you get to sleep in, and you don't have to do work, and it must be great to slack off; you have it so easy!"<br /><br />...<br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br />...<br /><br />Ha. Ha. Ha.<br /><br />The next person who says this to me can have ALL my Latin, Russian, Chinese, German Literature, English Literature, chemistry, geometry, and World History. Yes, I get through all of this in a day. No, it is not in small amounts. Good-bye.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-67331588667694577472009-10-03T18:08:00.000-07:002009-10-03T18:10:15.124-07:00Emily's Sorry Attempt at a Pancake<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRvhxbkLam9wXWM3vBceKujpBByZd9u0jrFUM0eBCgPBgOilzgC-18eQXPluK_wAPTtLxkU20NrkewqxZz8wzltD9l8rZF5hqz8JLug0T4HvTLX1XKZcoVDYR9a4YaUxUPRTZadcs0fXHf/s1600-h/P1010444.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388545773057110258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRvhxbkLam9wXWM3vBceKujpBByZd9u0jrFUM0eBCgPBgOilzgC-18eQXPluK_wAPTtLxkU20NrkewqxZz8wzltD9l8rZF5hqz8JLug0T4HvTLX1XKZcoVDYR9a4YaUxUPRTZadcs0fXHf/s400/P1010444.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>EmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-46147953575748723042009-09-24T13:37:00.000-07:002009-09-24T13:41:08.803-07:00Thanking the FiendsI want to thank all the Fiends (<a href="http://fabulouslorraine.com/">http://fabulouslorraine.com</a> or <a href="http://blog.fabulouslorraine.com/">http://blog.fabulouslorraine.com</a>, where we all hang out since we can't be together in person) for their comments on my poem on Teen Ink's website. It's posted as anonymous, because it's of quite a personal nature, but I really really can't thank them enough. My whole week was made eight thousand percent perfect by their comments and their just reading it.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-32882318832171686562009-09-15T18:40:00.000-07:002009-09-15T18:48:12.880-07:00A Fun Night And Getting Better and a Question For TrekkiesTonight was my first ever community chorus practice; loads of fun. We have all this fantastic music we're doing, from secular Christmas songs (the concert is of course at Christmastime) to traditional spiritual to the Star Spangled Banner to random fun theatrical songs.<br /><br />I am getting better. I got back to library shelving today! I never thought I would miss shelving the mysteries (we don't get along. Ever. At all) ... but it was really really really nice. I am so content just shoving volumes into their correct places.<br /><br />I asked a question on Yahoo! Answers and got one totally weird answer that just does not work for me on so many levels. The question was, "Trekkies: what think you of Leonard McCoy?" and goes on to say, "It seems people don't love him in the same way they tend to love Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, or both. I love Bones! Am I the only one who is very attached to him?"<br /><br />So tell me your thoughts on McCoy. Because it seems like he's left in the dust so much of the time!<br /><br />I tried for a few minutes to think of something more to say, but there wasn't anything, so, like. Bye.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-59029966255664299272009-09-14T11:51:00.000-07:002009-09-14T11:57:24.124-07:00Being Ill and Finding the Nerd Things That Make Up For ItWaiting and waiting for a bout of illness to fly away so that I can live my life. You know there's like nothing more fun than jumping on the trampoline on an autumn night? Okay, that's what I wish to do. And the stupid lungs won't let me (believe me, I tried).<br /><br />It seems someone has very generously donated a boatload of Star Trek novels to the local library. A big nerd like me. Isn't that great? I wish I knew who'd done it so I can thank him/her profusely. There are a bunch of Next Generation books, in which I have little interest, but also a bunch of old-time Trekkie novels. The library, I guess, chose not to put them on the shelf (WHY NOT?!), but rather the "For Sale" cart. Oh well, suits me fine. I just wish other nerds could enjoy them. Or people who weren't nerds and were then converted. I can convert you, if you want.<br /><br />Yesterday I submitted something to Teen Ink magazine (wish me luck). I told my mother and she said, "I thought you didn't write poetry anymore." To which I replied, "I thought so, too."<br /><br />My creativity was semi-sapped when my ex-father was living with us. The abuse that went on at home can ruin a person. But something seems to have happened within the last week. Maybe the bronchitis triggered some sort of Word Juice and brought me to write real poetry again.<br /><br />Since I have no schoolwork to do for now, what with the doctor telling me to do as little as possible, I guess I'll go back to doing my nerd things.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-11746682167531763632009-09-11T11:46:00.000-07:002009-09-11T11:50:29.143-07:00InsideThe library is quiet today. Rain is coming down outside. It is a miserable day. Why isn't everyone coming to the library to turn it into a happy day?<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-967349903971455639.post-19593883332905771392009-09-08T05:23:00.000-07:002009-09-08T05:30:56.949-07:00Pippin, School, and Don't Touch Her!'Kay. I'm alive, I promise.<br /><br />It would seem I did not make "Pippin" - they haven't got a cast list posted yet but haven't gotten back to me in the almost two weeks since I auditioned, so I figure I've been rejected. This means, however, that I can join the community chorus. It was one or the other.<br /><br />I've been walking around feeling self-conscious, figuring everyone assumes I have the H1N1 virus - since I have this thing that brings about reckless coughing. People are probably like, "DON'T TOUCH HER!"<br /><br />School has started again. I love the renewed structure. It's nice to have school back. People get dead bored when I tell them I'm home-schooled, though - a typical conversation with any adult:<br /><br />"So Emily, what grade are you in now?"<br /><br />"Twelfth."<br /><br />"Ooooooh, a senior! Is it <span style="font-style: italic;">exciting</span>?"<br /><br />"Well, yes, I suppose so; I mean, I'm home-schooled -"<br /><br />"Oh," the person will deadpan, his/her smile crashing to the floor. Then they just<span style="font-style: italic;"> walk away</span>.<br /><br />Fun.<br /><br />School is school, my friends.<br /><br />Speaking of which, I have to go get my day started.<br /><br />EmilyEmilyLadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16781814502682479156noreply@blogger.com6