Goodnight, Dear Void

You guys know how much I love TV, right?

Eight years ago, I didn’t watch anything.

But in eighth grade, somebody told me about this show called The Office.

The Office changed everything for me. 

Rather than try to explain it, I’m just going to let you guys read…

My Open Letter to The Office

Dear Cast and Crew of The Office,

I don’t even know where to begin. When we first met, I was an awkward 13-year-old with no idea who I was. Junior high was hard (duh police), and I tried way too hard to find my place in it all (obvious cops). It was full of misunderstandings, me saying the wrong thing, and (of course) unrequited love.

Then I started watching The Office. That first cold open, when Michael calls Jim’s female client “a gentleman and a scholar” over the phone… I know it sounds stupid, but somehow, that bit of comedy resonated with me right away. I was always doing and saying things I regretted, and here was an office full of normal people trying their best, which sometimes went horribly, horribly awry. They all did stupid stuff to clients at one point or another over those nine beautiful seasons, but everyone who worked at Dunder Mifflin Scranton (except for Jan, and maybe Ryan) had good intentions and good hearts.

Where to even begin?

Well, at the beginning.

Michael Scott.

Michael Scott was the regional manager of Dunder Mifflin Scranton for years. I’ve often seen him described as “bumbling” or “inept,” but I don’t agree. Sure, he was often terrible with people in the office. Who can forget Michael Klump or Prison Mike or Ping or the time he kissed Oscar or when he ruined Phyllis’s wedding to Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration? But Michael Scott was always trying to do the right thing, and he could be so good at his job when the rubber hit the road. David Wallace called him to corporate to ask him how to run a successful branch. Michael won Salesman of the Year two years in a row. Consecutive. When Stanley disrespected him, Michael hemmed and hawed but finally looked Stanley in the eye and told Stanley to respect him at work. Michael Scott proved that you don’t have to be capable all the time to be good at your job.

And then there’s Michael’s love life. All Michael had ever wanted- since childhood! Remember Fundle Bundle?- was a wife and kids. But he could not catch a break. Remember how he proposed to Carol, his realtor, after nine dates? And Jan. Nightmare Jan Levinson Gould. Michael was haunted by his relationship with Jan for so long. And then there was the married woman, and the poor chair model. For a long time, it seemed like Michael was never going to get to be happy. Either you felt bad for the woman for having to put up with Michael, or you felt bad for Michael for having to put up with Jan. But, knowing his good heart, you never stopped rooting for Michael.

And then there was Holly. I adore Holly. She was sweet, kind, caring, and beautiful, but still (as Jim put it) “a huuuuge dork.” She was perfect for Michael… and then she got transferred. Oh, was I upset when Holly got transferred. And then there was the company picnic, when Michael and Holly hung out again, and they were still perfect for each other. That episode ended with Michael saying this:

I didn’t find the perfect moment. Because I think that today was about just having today. And I think that we are one of those couples with a long story, when people ask how we found each other. I, will see her, every now and then, and, maybe one year she’ll be with somebody and the next year I’ll be with somebody. And it’s going to take a long time… and then it’s perfect. I’m in no rush.

And they got their perfect moment. 

And that was it. Michael and Holly moved to Colorado, and Steve Carell left the show. His last episode, “Goodbye Michael,” was one of the most perfect half-hours of television I have ever seen. It was sweet and sad and so perfectly Michael. There’s even this great moment between Michael and Oscar that shows us that Michael is just a little bit smarter than we think he is. With a final “That’s what she said,” Michael left us. And that was it. You assumed that he and Holly got married and had kids, but you never knew for sure.

Until tonight. 

They had said that Steve Carell didn’t feel like it was part of the character’s arc for Michael to come back, but when Dwight and Angela got engaged (augh… more on that in a bit), I freaked. No matter how bad Michael wanted to be buds with Ryan, Dwight was Michael’s best friend. It would be stupid for Michael to miss the wedding!

And he didn’t.

He only had a few real lines, but it wasn’t about that. It was about him being there… and showing Pam pictures of his kids. Kids, plural. Pam said, “He’s so excited to have a family plan.” It was just what he’d always wanted… and what we’d always wanted for him. We don’t even know what he does for a living now in Colorado… but isn’t that kind of the point? He’s not a job anymore. Now, Michael Gary Scott is a husband and a father. 

I can’t really put it into fewer words than that, but I’ll try anyway:

Michael Scott, thank you for teaching me that saying stupid stuff doesn’t make you a bad person. Thank you for showing me not to give up on dreams, even when it seems totally hopeless. Thank you for showing me that there’s someone for everyone, and thank you for having a happily ever after.

You thought we were done? Hoo hoo! Nope.

Jim Halpert loved Pam Beesly, in his words, “pretty much the first day I met her.” They were best friends, and, after several agonizing seasons (Roy! Katie! Karen! Roy again!), Jim and Pam finally became a couple. They dated, got engaged, got married, and were married for a few seasons without any real struggles. And then, in the ninth season, the writers decided to shake things up. Jim stopped communicating with Pam, Pam was afraid to communicate with Jim, and they nearly split up. It was awful, but I was so glad that the writers chose to take their relationship in that direction. Jim and Pam are our generation’s Sam and Diane (if you don’t know who Sam and Diane are, GET OUT). They’re the It Couple! This season of The Office courageously showed us that even the It Couple needs to work at marriage. It’s give and take, not live and let live. And in the most recent few episodes, we got to remember what made Jim and Pam Jim and Pam in the first place with some beautiful flashbacks and montages. The Halperts set the standard for couples, for better or for worse.

Jim Halpert, thank you for showing me what love looks like, what to hold out for. Thank you for being certain, for always being certain of Pam. Thank you for showing me that love goes after what it wants, no matter the obstacles, and that indifference and laziness aren’t love at all. Thank you for screwing up, and thank you for giving up what you wanted (Athlead) for what you needed (Pam).

Jim is wonderful, obviously, but I’ve got a special place in my heart for Pam. At the beginning of the show, Pam is so afraid. She’s with Roy because she’s been with him for so long that she’s afraid to not be with him. She’s a secretary at Dunder Mifflin because she’s afraid to pursue her art. She hesitates to move pursue a relationship with Jim because she’s afraid of ruining their friendship. In junior high (and, let’s be honest, high school), I was afraid of things like that too. But there is this wonderful moment in the episode Beach Day where Pam works up her courage, runs across hot coals, and announces to everyone exactly what is on her mind. You see Pam conquer her fears, right there, in front of everyone. In the next episode, Jim and Pam finally get together. It takes Pam a while to realize her dreams of being a paid artist, but with Jim encouraging her, it is so much easier… and all because Pam, meek, quiet little Pam, had the courage to speak her mind. On tonight’s episode, Pam said that she hoped she could inspire just one girl to overcome her fears. Pam, I’m sure there have been many, but I promise that you’ve definitely inspired one.

Pamela Beesly Halpert, thank you for teaching me to be brave. Thank you for showing me what happens when you go after what you want, and thank you for letting me know that it’s okay to be scared. Thank you for supporting Jim, even when it’s hard, and when it hurts. Thank you for answering one last phone call at the secretary’s desk. Thank you for… everything, Pam. Thank you for everything.

I’m running really long here, so I’ll keep the rest of my thank-yous short.

Dwight Schrute, thank you for teaching me the importance of being a Determined Worker Intense Good worker Hard worker Terrific. Thank you for showing me the importance of self-discipline, and for filing all of those complaint reports on Jim to that special file in New York. 

Angela Martin Schrute, thank you for always sticking to your guns. Thank you for forgiving Phyllis and Oscar, even though forgiveness isn’t your strong suit. But mostly thank you and your now-husband Dwight for showing me that true love can be weird, but that doesn’t make it any less true than non-weird love. 

Oscar Martinez, thank you for your kindness to Angela in her time of need, as well as your well-intentioned pretension. Also, thank you for that time that Michael kissed you. That was awesome.

Kevin Malone, thank you for being Kevin Malone. I think I’ll miss you most of all.

Kelly Kapoor, thank you for Subtle Sexuality and the music video for Male Prima Donna. Also, thank you for being Mindy Kaling and writing The Mindy Project and mostly just being as perfect in real life as you are totally twisted on The Office.

Toby Flenderson, thank you for not committing suicide. Depression affects many employees of offices (Dwight you ignorant slut!), but somehow, inexplicably, you stay strongish. Proud of you… I guess. You’re mostly just, like, an evil snail.

Erin Hannon, thank you for following in Pam’s secretarial footsteps by being brave enough to ditch Andy, who was a terrible boyfriend to you, for Pete, who is crazy sweet to you. Who’s Pete? Oh, sorry… Plop.

Phyllis Lapin-Vance, thank you for showing me that passionate love of one’s husband can continue into your… how old are you? Forties? However old Michael is. You guys are the same age.

Stanley Hudson, thank you for your enthusiasm on Pretzel Day, and for not noticing when anything in the office is different ever.

Andrew “Nard Dog” Bernard, thank you for sticking around. I missed you in the ninth season, but I love how you always go after your dreams. Your weird, crazy, unaccompanied-musical dreams. 

Meredith Palmer, thank you for getting hit by Michael’s car. Best cold open of anything ever.

Creed Bratton, thank you for being impossible to figure out.

Ryan Howard, go away. You’re the worst. Thanks for that “custardy” joke though. And for taking Michael to business school in my favorite episode, entitled “Business School.” And thanks for starting the fiyah!

Thanks also for introducing me to two of my favorite shows, 30 Rock and Parks and Rec, simply because they were on after you. Thank you for kicking off the movie careers of Steve Carell and John Krasinski and the television career of Mindy Kaling. I can’t wait to see what else happens because you made it.

Thank you, cast and crew of The Office, for making such a weird little show. You understood me, and you got me through growing up. I’ll miss you more intensely than Michael missed that turn when he drove into the lake, and your absence will land harder than Michael would have if he’d jumped off the roof onto that bouncy house. You may be gone, but you’ll never be forgotten.

Love,
Emily. 

There is a special circle of hell reserved for some people.

Of course, I don’t mean that theologically. I’m not trying to get all tangled up in belief systems or whatnot. 

When I say that there is a special circle of hell reserved for some people, what I mean is that there are some things that people do that I judge more harshly. It’s not, like, using the wrong “to/too/two” or leaving your shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot or even misusing the word “literally.” All of those things are borderline evil, but not bad enough to get you into my metaphorical special circle of hell.

Everybody has their own standard for this special circle. Dante, of course, calls it the Ninth Circle of Hell, and keeps it for the treacherous and those guilty of fraud. On Firefly, Shepherd Book warns baby Richard Castle Captain Mal that he’s risking “a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.” Captain Jack Sparrow believes that “the deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers.”

So who (besides the obvious: molesters, murderers, and the like) is in my metaphorical circle of hell? A brief list:

• People who treat bus drivers and drive-thru clerks like servants (just look them in the eye, people! It’s not that hard!)
• People who don’t like Tom Hanks
• People who give judgmental looks at the gym (I’M TRYING)
• Allison Argent from Teen Wolf
• Grown men who wear Speedos to family waterparks
• People who win happiness points by ruining stuff for other people

That last one is what I am going to rant about for just a second. I understand not liking stuff. Nobody likes everything. If you liked everything, your heart would probably explode and you would probably die. It’s totally fine not to like stuff. But to try to convince other people not to like stuff that they like, or to make people feel bad for liking stuff that they like? That is the actual worst.

Let me give you an example.

I love Taylor Swift’s latest album, Red. I think it is seriously so good. If you don’t like it, or do not think it is good, that is okay. I will think you are wrong, but you will think you are right. So you and I will just agree to avoid discussion of Taylor Swift’s Red, and if you are in my car, I will pick Mumford & Sons or Justin Timberlake or something instead. 

But if you hear me humming a few bars of 22 or you hear I Knew You Were Trouble on a playlist that I made and you scoff, “Psh, who put Taylor Swift on here?” and I boldly declare, “It was me!” and you’re all like, “You don’t seriously like Taylor Swift, do you?” and I retort, “Yeah, I definitely do,” and you are like, “But she’s terrible,” and I’m like, “No she isn’t!” and you’re like, “But [chord progressions or Harry Styles or whatever your stupid hypothetical problem with Taylor Swift is]!” That is what gets you into my special circle of hell. You just tried to talk me out of loving a thing that I love, and that is rude. You just tried to ruin Taylor Swift for me. I now hate you.

Okay, I don’t hate you. But I do want you to understand how you sound when you try to take away a thing that I love like that. You may not like Taylor Swift. But it is mean of you to try to ruin Taylor Swift for me!

But here’s the thing: I do not want to make people afraid to talk to me about anything ever. It’s totally okay if you don’t like the things that I like! But please, for the love of Pete, do not be aggressively negative about my stuff. In return, I promise to not be aggressively negative about your stuff.

These are the top things that I will ask you (“you” being the collective entity of my friends) not to try to ruin for me:

• Tom Hanks (NEVER BESMIRCH TOM HANKS. I WILL NOT FORGIVE YOU FOR THAT. HE IS AMERICA’S ACTOR.)
• The book Ella Enchanted
• Beyoncé
• Almost any character from Lost
• Any character from Community (especially Abed)
• Vincent Van Gogh (very very misunderstood)
• The majority of romantic comedies from 1989-2001
• Mindy Kaling/The Mindy Project
• All six Avengers but especially Black Widow (not because she’s my favorite but because she gets the most flak)
• My family and friends (…should have been higher on the list, but I figured it was obvious)
• To a lesser extent, things that I love even though I know they’re silly: Teen Wolf, One Direction, The Lake House, Duck Dynasty, etc.

In return, here are some things that I hate that I promise not to try to ruin for you guys. I will still say that I hate them, but I will avoid referring to them as objectively “bad.” Especially if you like them.

• Anne Hathaway
• Wes Anderson movies that aren’t Fantastic Mr. Fox (because I love that one)
• Essentially all video games (like seriously, what is the deal with Skyrim? Sorry.)
• Tennis
• Soccer
• Game of Thrones (I try really hard not to care about Game of Thrones but Daenerys is so cool and I just want Arya to be happy)
• Civil War history (too many amputations)
• World War I history (too many trenches)
• Fast and Furious movies
• Transformers movies
• The Way We Were (Movie, not song. Obviously the song is perfection.)
• The Karate Kid remake
• Rent

I promise not to ruin things for you if you promise not to ruin things for me. Thank you so much for understanding.

Or, more appropriately, Know My Limits. Because I’m going to tell you some of them right now.

• Emily, don’t say you’re going to go jogging. We both know that’s ambitious, since what you’re really going to do is walk-run-pant-stagger-repeat. You can’t add it all together, average it, and call it jogging. That’s not how this works.
• Emily, don’t use the recline-y exercise bike. Your weird legs-to-body proportions make it impossible for you to not hit your knee really hard on the handlebars, and that puppy’s gonna bruise. It’s gonna bruise real good. And stay bruised for weeks. Come on.
• And for the love of Pete, Emily, do not try to exercise without water. You may think you’ll be fine, since you don’t exercise very well in the first place, but you need water. No, not Dr. Pepper. Water.
• Emily, honey, if there are two or more good looking guys in the workout room, just leave. You’re not going to be able to use that elliptical without a looming and intense concern that you look like Crutchy fleeing Pulitzer’s goons in that one riot from Newsies. I know that there are a lot of exercise limits on this list, and that’s intentional. You have a lot of exercise limits, Emily. Deal with it. 
• Emily, you should not even try to strike up conversations with cute guys on elevators. You can talk to other girls, old guys, kids, whatever, but do not try to talk to the cute guys. We both know that you’ll say something incredibly stupid within the first 15 seconds, making the rest of the elevator ride unbearably awkward. What, you think you don’t say stupid things when you’re talking to attractive male strangers? What about that time last week when you told the Homeland checkout guy that you “always anticipate bag problems”? And the time that one track runner that you “um, uh, think I like going to the Oklahoma of University a lot so far”? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Just pretend to be absorbed in your phone.
• Emily, you can’t go to bed at 1AM and wake up at 7AM. You just can’t. It’s not who you are. 
• Similarly, Emily, you can’t spend six hours on a paper. If you allot that much time, you’re going to spend 38% of it tweeting and another 26% watching “just one episode” of your shows. Just go in spurts, honey. Work in spurts. 
• Emily, you can’t watch just one episode of something. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen that thing. You will watch at least three episodes. Especially if it’s The Mindy Project.
• Emily, you cannot do another full series rewatch of The Mindy Project. I don’t care how perfectly they’ve set up their characters for development. I don’t care how much you identify with Mindy Kaling and her character, even if it’s more than you identified with Liz Lemon. I don’t care how great Chris Messina is at pretending not to care but turning up the corners of his mouth ever so slightly to prove that he does. I don’t care how much you adore the friend/rival/buddy/future spouses chemistry of Danny and Mindy that they are playing out so slowly and so well. Your homework is being neglected. Stop it.
• Emily, you totally can use your blog to subtly plug The Mindy Project. It’s a great show, and everyone who likes 90s romantic comedies should be watching it. Go ahead on that one. 

There are so many more limits that I have, but I don’t want to share all of my shortcomings with you guys. I need to retain some semblance of imperviousness. These are the important ones anyway… and I get the feeling that if I keep talking it’s just gonna be praise for The Mindy Project. Hey, I should go watch that. Just one episode…

I’m taking the LSAT on Saturday.

I have at least 4 really great blog post topics, but they’ve been preempted by my future, as has everything else lately. On Saturday afternoon, I’m going to go back to being a normally functioning human, fun friend, calm student, non-annoying Facebook poster (if I ever was before).

But until then, I’m in LSAT mode.

The past two nights have been really hard in terms of studying, mostly because I’m so afraid I’ll blow it that I cannot function properly.

Tonight was the worst. I couldn’t get through a single problem without panicking, so I shut the books, came home, and watched Legally Blonde the Musical.

I know it seems stupid, but it was one of the better decisions I’ve made this year. 

Now I remember: I’m going to be a lawyer to help people. I want to eventually be a politician to help people on a grander scale. There’s more than one path to those destinations. This LSAT is just one stepping stone, and I can do it. I’ve studied my tail off. I’ve practiced. I’ve done well in practice. And- not to get cheesy on you guys- but I really, truly believe that this is what God made me for. 

This is it. The LSAT is in less than 36 hours.

No more fear. No more panic.

I can do it.

It’s time. 

There are a ton of exciting sequels about to come out.

Yeah, this post is gonna be nerdy and entirely about movies. Bow out now if you don’t care.

In the past few years, there have been some really great movies. I know that there have been some bad ones too, but think about how much awesome has happened in theaters in recent times. Christopher Nolan’s Batman movies, all of the Avengers franchise films, a third Toy Story, and some solid reboots of already-great brands like X-Men, Spiderman, and Star Trek. 

The best thing about this wave of excellence in theaters is that a second wave was bound to follow. Hollywood loves making money, and nothing makes money like sequels. And with sequels, it helps if there is some distinguishing feature that separates the title of the newer movie from the title of the older movie (besides the obvious “2”).

Ladies and gentlemen, the second wave is upon us, and with it comes a boatload of fantastic subtitles.

We’ve already gotten Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows and Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, which were not only great subtitles but also surprisingly good movies (especially MI4… see it if you haven’t already). 

Here are the upcoming subtitles that I am excited about.

Fantastic Subtitle #1: 

I love Thor.

I know it’s not a particularly great movie (the best scenes are the deleted ones, a fact that is endlessly frustrating to me), and Thor may not be the most interesting Avenger, but if I had to pick a favorite on pain of death, the God of Thunder would win by a hair. A long, flowing, manly blond hair, or maybe like a full, thick, golden beard hair. That’s why I am so excited that they’re giving him his own second movie.

If you haven’t seen Avengers (for the love of Pete, see Avengers), look away now: The fact that Loki was taken back to Asgard instead of killed at the end of Avengers just sets them up for an even better sequel. Loki is a great villain, and his dynamic with Thor is so good/sad that it makes my heart grow but also hurt. 

As for the subtitle, what the heck is the Dark World? I know I could probably do a little googling and find out, but I have an uncharacteristic desire to let this one go unspoiled for myself. Either way, such a bright and shining man going into any sort of darkness is bound to create a compelling plot… right? 

Even if it doesn’t, I still get to look at Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston, and (let’s be honest here) Natalie Portman. And that, in itself, is a victory.

Fantastic Subtitle #2: 

“What?” You ask, a little rudely. “How does that qualify as a fantastic subtitle? That’s just a season and an occupation. Come on Emily, get your act together!” 

Well I am going to be forgiving, even though you snapped at me just then, and explain.

This is an exciting subtitle because, in the comics, the Winter Soldier is none other than Bucky Ding Dang Dadgum Barnes.

Remember him from Captain America? This guy:

Preface: I haven’t read the Lord of the Rings books, but I have seen the movies many, many times and read the relevant Wikipedia pages. Tolkien nuts, please don’t get mad at me if I’m wrong/oversimplifying.

You may have noticed that, since The Hobbit came out in theaters, I’ve been a huddled mass of Lord of the Rings feelings. That is because the Lord of the Rings trilogy is the greatest non-Star Wars thing in the world. The series is just a puzzle in which every piece is a fantastic character driven by a different objective.

Frodo wants to destroy the One Ring for a great many reasons, the most poignant of which is that he knows it’s the right thing to do, despite how deeply he wishes he didn’t have to do it.

Aragorn wants to save Middle Earth from evil but without receiving credit for doing so, because he wants to redeem the name that he inherited from a man whose greed condemned Middle Earth in the first place.

Pippin wants to mean something in a good way and do right by everyone, no matter how despicable some people are, because he has had such a small life in the Shire that he desires to handle big things with the same grace that he handles small things (he’s not always graceful, per se, but he is good). 

Elrond wants to preserve his people, especially his daughter, but he also wants to help Middle Earth, because he knows that the time of the elves is ending, but men are also important and deserve to live to their time too.

Saruman hitches his wagon to the wrong Giant Flaming Eye because he wants power and feels that he knows how to use it, and also he doesn’t want to die, which seems simple but is not a bad motivation.

There are so many others who are incredibly fascinating in their own right- don’t you even get me started on Samwise Gamgee- but there’s one character in particular that I want to write about here.

Eowyn.

Eowyn is a shieldmaiden of Rohan, the niece of King Theoden. When we first meet her in The Two Towers, her life is the worst. She is stuck in the palace at Edoras, trying to keep the kingdom in one piece as her uncle rots (literally, guys) under the bad juju of evil wizard Saruman and his crony, the Snape/Pettigrew hybrid Grima Wormtongue. Her brother Eomer has just been banished, her cousin Theodred has just died, and Wormtongue, despite his romantically inauspicious name, will not stop hitting on her. Basically her only solace at this point is that she has really, really great hair, and on the solace meter, that’s pretty low.

But everything changes when a band of four rides into town: A white wizard (Gandalf), a ruddy dwarf (Gimli), a well-groomed elf (Legolas), and a scruffy-lookin’ ranger-who-would-be-king (Aragorn). These four get the nasty spirit out of Theoden, kick Wormtongue outta Dodge/Rohan, and generally improve Eowyn’s life by about 98.7% in less than half an hour. Gandalf is preoccupied with the big and important questions of Middle Earth, Gimli is like a fun uncle (or funcle), Legolas is an elf and therefore embedded to his very core with better-than-youness, but Aragorn…

Well, Aragorn takes some time out of his main activity (bringing ConflictedSexy back) to cross swords and wits with Eowyn. It’s clear from their first real encounter that he respects her a lot, and he’s not really going anywhere. Plus, he’s so ConflictedSexy. (Please don’t read that as sarcasm. It wasn’t.) So it comes to pass that Eowyn falls maybe a little or a lot in love with Aragorn.

Now, if you wouldn’t mind, please step out of the story with me for a moment to travel back in time with me. The Return of the King came out in 2003. I discovered (read: was finally allowed to watch) these movies in 2002. Since I entered middle school in August of 2003, these were pretty much my main obsession all throughout junior high. This is important to what’s coming next.

I had a huge fat crush on a boy in junior high. I don’t mean that I liked a boy or dated a boy or whatever. I had a huge. fat. crush on him. If you know me at all, you know who it was. If you don’t, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I just thought that he hung the moon.

Let me state for the record that this was a very. different. Emily. Junior High Emily was the worst, and I have nothing but gratitude for the people who knew her and still choose to be friends with Subsequent Emily. 

I’ve said that Junior High Emily did two things: judged people, and liked this boy too much. Fortunately, I am pretty sure I have mostly grown out of the first (call me on it if I haven’t) and I know that I have grown out of the second (though it took a while). 

The other part of this that’s important is that Huge Fat Crush Boy (or, as I shall now shorthand him, HFCB) did not feel the same way. That’s okay. That happens. A lot. To everyone. At one point or another.

Doesn’t mean it was fun.

To be honest, liking someone who doesn’t like you back is the actual worst. I’m not going to go into it in too much depth, because you can pretty much just watch The Holiday and get what I’m talking about, in much better wording, plus Kate Winslet. Mostly what sucks about it is that it makes you feel all weak and stuff, because there’s nothing you can do about it. If something in my life sucks, then I want to take steps to make it better. That’s the kind of person I am. But when you like someone who doesn’t like you, there are no steps to be taken. You can’t stop liking the person, or else you would. And you can’t make them like you, because why would you want to be with someone if you have to force them to like you? That’s not fun for anybody. So you just kind of sit there, like a sponge of sadness, which is what I did for a good portion of middle school.

Re-enter Eowyn. 

I owe so much to Eowyn.

While I was sitting there like a sadness sponge, I watched Lord of the Rings. Eowyn was my favorite character pre-HFCB, but upon rewatching, I saw something that I hadn’t seen before. Yes, Eowyn is cool and beautiful and smart and tough and independent and brave and wonderful. But she was also like me. She loved Aragorn (not that HFCB was Aragorn, mind you, nor was I Eowyn. It’s a loose analogy), and despite all of these great things about her, Aragorn did not love her back. Did that make her weaker or dumber or even a sadness sponge?

NO.

Because Eowyn, while sad, didn’t just sit and pine and pine and pine. She got out there and rode horses and fought battles and inspired people and even proved that women can do things! She was still subject to unrequited love, but she wasn’t a victim of it! In fact (spoiler alert, although if you haven’t seen Return of the King yet then what are you even doing with your life), there is this King Bad Guy Creature called the Witch-king of Angmar, who thinks that he is invincible because a 1000-year-old prophecy by the Elf-lord Glorfindel says that he will not die “by the hand of man.” In the movie, when he meets Eowyn on the battlefield, he hisses, “You fool, no man can kill me.” Eowyn pulls off her helmet, her hair tumbles down, she roars, “I AM NO MAN,” and then STABS THE WITCH-KING IN THE FACE.

Actually, in the movie, she roars, “I AM NO MAN.” In the book, her speech is considerably longer and surprisingly even more awesome:

“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund’s daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.”

Of course, the Witch-king dies, because bad guys never consider potential loopholes in prophecies, and Eowyn cements herself as the coolest ever. And all of this while being head-over-heels for a great guy who doesn’t love her!

And then, after the battle and the healing and the restoring and the inspirational music, Eowyn does the most important thing: she moves on. She gets up one morning and suddenly she loves Aragorn a little less, and the next morning it’s lesser still, until one day it’s all just gone! Eventually, she falls in love with one of the other fantastic men in Middle-Earth, Faramir (who overcomes the literal worst father in the history of literature to become a pretty great dude) and together they presumably have really excellent, beautiful, brave children, and make Middle-Earth a better place. Eowyn has a future after the Huge Fat Crush Era (Era-gorn?). And- shockingly enough- so did I!

Thankfully, my days of all-consuming crushes on boys are gone (well, almost gone: love me, Tom Hiddleston), but I don’t know if I would have made it through them in one piece if not for the shining example of Eowyn. 

I guess what I’m saying here is, don’t ever let someone tell you “it’s just a fictional character!”

Sometimes, fictional characters can be the ones that help the most.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go watch a gif of Aragorn opening some doors. What? A girl can dream!

• I were an astronaut- no gravity to keep the paper on the table, too much to look at out the window
• I were an Amazon princess like Wonder Woman- the Island of Themyscira is a haven from worries, all they have to do is read for fun, brush their hair, and practice kicking tail
• I were the queen of Naboo/princess of Alderaan- no school subjects because the professors are my subjects (wordplay)
• I were Rod Kimble- escape tricks and fire-breathing cannot be learned from a book, ancestors protect me [from finals]
• I were a Hobbit- so many breakfastes, so little time, mustn’t waste the day studying!
• I were Batman- too much crime to prevent, justice in the night trumps botany in the day

• Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters
• Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
• Jedi Training

Addendum II: I do mind studying for finals, because I am in:

• Oklahoma

In the words of my fantastic roommate Alyssa Boutelle, ”I swear that on December 15th I’ll go back to appreciating the fact that I can afford a higher education.”

Complaint Emily over and out.

You may think you’ve felt a combination of dread and pain, but unless you’ve left your retainers at college while you went home for a week, you’re wrong. The dread that overtakes you in that moment of realization festers until you return to your apartment, and you think that nothing could be worse than that dread. And then you put your retainers in, and the pain is a thousand times worse than mere dread ever could be.

Please don’t mock my pain.

Alyssa (my roommate/an angel from heaven) is doing some much-needed vacuuming in our apartment right now. Hear me now: I’m not saying that I agree with them on this one, but I totally see how dogs could be scared of vacuums. Vacuums are loud.

I miss Community. Like, a lot. Is it February 7th yet?

I want to write letters to somebody. If you like writing letters, let me know. I want to be half of a correspondence. 

How great of a word is correspondence? Some other great words: abstruse, azure, pilcrow, ampersand, panoply, opalescent, petrichor. If you don’t know what they mean, you should look them up. I love words.

You know what else I like? Paintings of geese. Go ahead, click here and tell me that those aren’t relaxing. We used to have one at home. I wonder where that thing went…

Have you seen Stranger Than Fiction? I think that if someone started ominously narrating my life like that, I would probably be really cool with it. Especially if that voice happened to be one of my pre-approved life narrators: Cary Elwes, Tina Fey, Tom Hanks, or Ice-T. One of these things is not like the others, you say? Watch one episode of Law and Order SVU, just one, and then tell me that The Emily Eby Story narrated by Ice-T wouldn’t be awesome.

Right now, my tentative memoir title is Unnecessary Complications: The Emily Eby Story. Runners-up include Paleface: SPF80 and Other Things I Need and Nora Ephron Is Dead, So What’s The Point Anymore?

Have you ever read the lyrics to Gangnam Style in English? You should. They’re hilarious. Here you go.

Last week, I told Madeline (other roommate/platonic soulmate) and my sister Claire that I wanted to own a red brick house with white trim and white columns, to which Claire responded, “But Emily, then people will expect you to own slaves!” I don’t know what they’re teaching in high schools these days. 

One of the things that matters most to me in this world is my own personal belief that one day Mindy Kaling will marry BJ Novak and they will have as many funny kids as Mindy wants, because she’s a hardworking lady therefore she gets to choose that kind of stuff.

I know that’s creepy and weird and gross if you listen to the lyrics, but Baby It’s Cold Outside is still one of my favorite holiday songs. I have six versions on my iPod, including one by Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson. I mostly just keep that one because it makes me laugh.

“A hot dog is singing. You need quiet while a hot dog is singing?” -Probably my most used You’ve Got Mail quote of all.

Is No Shave November over yet?

Pretty much every episode of The Cosby Show is on YouTube. Do yourself a favor and spend some time with the Huxtables this week.

I am in a constant state of wanting to reread Pride and Prejudice. Can I just hire somebody to follow me around and read it? 

(Preferably Ice-T.)

Is it better to learn how to fit in with the new ways or revert to the old ones?

I just opened Microsoft Word to change the view to that good old 2003 style and then, when I couldn’t figure it out immediately, I started wondering about this. It’s a stupid thing to make me wonder, really, but I almost always wonder about important things as a result of wondering about stupid things. Is it better to just adapt to the new things than to cling to the old ones? Newspapers and records and books and idealism and faith in government and letter-writing and all sorts of things are fading by the day, and it seems to be only “old soul” sorts of people who care.

I mean, it’s not like good things aren’t coming with progress. I can visit my best friends at any time, regardless of where in the U.S. they live, because my car (whose name is Cliffy, for the record) can get me there. I can cast my ballot for president, because now anyone, regardless of race or gender or land-ownership status, can vote. I can learn everything I need to learn to be a lawyer after college because there are tons of graduate schools competing for students. Things are getting better in a lot of ways.

But we’re still losing things. I want to be one-half of an old-fashioned correspondence. I want to curtsy to people who are more important than me. I want to sit in a café in Europe where everyone is reading books with golden-edged pages and nobody is on computers. However, I’m acutely aware that the only reason I can share these desires is because of computers and internet and progress.

Maybe the only way of resolving the conflict between past and present is having one foot in both.

Recently I wrote in a story for class that “my dad lives at a curious crossroads between the up-to-date and the old-fashioned, which is another trait I’ve inherited from him.” He checks his hometown newspaper on his iPad, and listens to Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley on his iPod. I so admire that. My dad has a willingness to embrace change and technology, but also a loyalty to everything that brought him to this point.

I guess that’s why I feel like an old soul sometimes, even if I’m only two decades old. I feel as though I owe my present state of being to all of human history. So many pieces of the past have shaped my existence: King David’s Psalms, Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, Van Gogh’s Café Terrace at Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby, Rob Reiner’s Princess Bride, Russell T. Davies’s Doctor Who, The Script’s Science & Faith, John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. My story isn’t new. It’s just a result of the unique set of things that I have been exposed to and responded to. After all that it has done for me, I can’t disregard the past so easily.

But new things are shaping me too. Any new album could be the one that makes me realize something huge. Any new book could show me an aspiration or a longing that I didn’t know I had. Any new episode of television could awaken my passion for a cause. Anything (provided that it’s not directed by Michael Bay or starring Kevin James) could be the next big influence on my life.

I suppose that the key to my dilemma is simply the knowledge that the present is in a constant state of becoming the past, and the perspective that comes with that knowledge. Adapt to the present, because it will later be past. Then adapt again, and never forget where you came from.

 Either way, in the words of Kathleen Kelly: “I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So goodnight, dear void.”