30 Day Meme - Learn more about me than you really wanted to know!
The rules: ---Day 01 -- Introduce yourself---- Day 02 - Your first love, in great detail Day 03 - Your parents, in great detail Day 04 - What you ate today, in great detail Day 05 - Your definition of love, in great detail Day 06 - Your day, in great detail Day 07 - Your best friend, in great detail Day 08 - A moment, in great detail Day 09 - Your beliefs, in great detail Day 10 - What you wore today, in great detail Day 11 - Your siblings, in great detail Day 12 - What’s in your bag, in great detail Day 13 - This week, in great detail Day 14 - What you wore today, in great detail Day 15 - Your dreams, in great detail Day 16 - Your first kiss, in great detail Day 17 - Your favorite memory, in great detail Day 18 - Your favorite birthday, in great detail Day 19 - Something you regret, in great detail Day 20 - This month, in great detail Day 21 - Another moment, in great detail Day 22 - Something that upsets you, in great detail Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better, in great detail Day 24 - Something that makes you cry, in great detail Day 25 - A first, in great detail Day 26 - Your fears, in great detail Day 27 - Your favorite place, in great detail Day 28 - Something that you miss, in great detail Day 29 - Your aspirations, in great detail Day 30 - One last moment, in great detail
Hi. My name is Emily.
I was born on Christmas Day 1980 here in Houston. For serious. Christmas. Do I get gypped on presents? (EVERYONE asks this question.) No. Mom always made sure that my birthday was a separate celebration from Christmas. We would do the presents under the tree first thing in the morning. We'd have Christmas dinner in the early afternoon. After dinner, my aunt, cousin, and sister would make my birthday cake - homemade red velvet. As that was baking, Mom would replace the Christmas decorations in the dining room with birthday party swag. When the cake was done, we'd get together in the dining room and have my birthday party. We'd have my birthday cake and I'd open my birthday presents. Mom required the family to wrap my birthday presents in non-Christmas paper. I hold that rule to this day - wrapping my birthday present in Christmas paper is a giant no-no.
My family moved to Austin when I was 1, and my sister was born 2 years later. I lived in Austin until just a couple of years ago. It's a giant culture shock to go from a town of only half a million or so to something like 4 million. It takes 30 minutes to drive from the north end of Austin to the south side. In Houston, it takes 30 minutes to drive about 15 miles. Basically, in Houston, everything is 30+ minutes away (and 30 minutes is CLOSE) whereas, in Austin, close is 5 minutes. *shakes head*
I was sexually molested, psychologically/emotionally/physically abused by my father. This went on from the time I was a toddler until I moved out of the house at 18. In order to survive, my brain disassociated from what was happening. This created memories, but they were buried way back in my unconscious. I only started to remember these memories at 21. However, I acted out all of the warning signs of child sexual molestation. I was constantly depressed, even as a young child. I was way too stressed out as a child. I started getting migraines at age 8. As I got older, I started acting out sexually - we got AOL when I was in 8th grade and I would troll the sex chat rooms and have cybersex. I was totally depressed as an adolescent. I was constantly suicidal, having plans and telling Mom how I wanted to die. I would also have giant screaming matches with her. I understand now, after being in therapy, that this yelling was my only way of getting out all the anger I had built up about being abused by Dad. I couldn't yell at him without horrible retribution, so I yelled at her. At age 11 I started telling her to get a divorce. She was miserable with Dad, and Sis and I were, too. Things I remember now are taking abuse so that he wouldn't harm others - he'd threaten to kill our cat if I told. He told me that if I let him do things to me, he wouldn't do anything to Mom or Sis (even though he said the same thing to them, thus playing all of us against each other). My scariest memory is being in the dark in my parent's bedroom with a pistol pressed against my temple. I can feel to this day the cold metal on my face. I can hear the click of the gun being cocked. He told me that if I ever told he'd kill me. He then pulled the trigger. I thought I was dead. However, it was an empty chamber. This is the sadistic stuff I went through.
I had my first boyfriend at 15. He was 19. We had sex after just a few weeks. That relationship lasted for a couple of years. When I was 19, I met my next boyfriend. He was 5 years my senior. I loved him so much. He was amazingly sweet and caring. I wanted to marry him, but he couldn't commit. I stayed with him for 5 years until things just fell apart completely. 6 months later I met my girlfriend. My first foray into homosexuality. She was amazing. Our relationship was stormy and ended when she just couldn't understand me and what I was going through anymore. She's now been with a new woman named Emily. Creepy, I know.
So basically, I'm up for anyone. I'd prefer being with a woman... what with all of the icky memories of being with Dad, I'd rather not have more experiences with real penises for a while. But, who knows. I'm definitely a lipstick lesbian, which seems to not send a strong enough signal for people's gaydar to detect. I need to figure out how to work on that.
But, I know that right now I'm not in any shape to actually have an intimate relationship. I'm just too screwed up. Maybe once I have straightened myself out more, stopped living with Mom, going to school, etc., I will start looking.
I have had one technical suicide attempt. It was really more of a "pay attention to how fucked up I feel" attempt, but it technically counted, since I swallowed a handful of pills. The hospital pumped my stomach, which was really abusive in itself, since the male nurse had his groin right in my face while a tube was shoved down my throat and I couldn't breathe.
I've stayed in two psych hospitals. One was so gross and scary I convinced the doctor to let me go by acting not crazy after only being there a day. The second place was a lot better and I stayed for a week and it actually wasn't a bad experience.
I love my cats. Currently, we have five living in the house. Cole Porter, Andrew, and Persephone (Sophie/Fluffy) live in the main part of the house. Bob Fosse and Nutmeg (Meg) live in Mom's room. We also have Furr Elise (Elise/Leesie) and Bandit, who are the rescues from Mom's work and who live outside in a large enclosure. They are sisters and are so sweet together. They are getting more and more used to us. At some point, we'll have to get them fixed, but not until it gets cooler outside.
I love all animals, really. I've had fish, frogs, and gerbils as pets over the years.
I knit. Well, I used to knit constantly, but my hands ache too much to do much right now. But I love it. I also paint. I haven't the space in my room right now, but people tell me I'm pretty good. I'm not so sure, but okay.
I'm both a theatre and band geek. I LOVE theatre. It's so inclusive. There is absolutely no judgment about people in theatre. It's come as you are. And, I have a very big pet peeve about this: when talking about the art, stage plays, actors, etc., it's theatre. When talking about the place where the play is performed then it ends in "er." DO NOT mix these up. It's annoying. I played clarinet and bass clarinet in band starting in 6th grade. In 7th I switched to bass and that was an excellent move for me. I ended up having solos and solis with other instruments in performances. That particular year, we went to a competition where we played at Lincoln Center in D.C. It was AMAZING. However, in reality, from the stage? Lincoln Center has crap acoustics. Almost all of my best friends are from band and theatre. Some are band-adjacent. My second major boyfriend played tuba for the Longhorn Band. I can't hear tuba music or see tubas without thinking about him. It makes me smile. And I can always pick out bass clarinet parts in music. And I still remember my parts in the Sousa marches, and annoy Mom by singing them "Boom boom boom boom"-style every 4th of July.
I am a complete bibliophile. My room is covered in books. I read all genres. My only caveat is that the book is good.
Education: Because the stress I was under as a kid made me physically ill (my brain would actually create a fever so I wouldn't have to go to school and I could rest after being up all night with Dad), I missed a hell of a lot of school. I still made almost all straight A's, but only by the skin of my teeth. I squeaked by doing the same thing through middle school and my freshman year of high school. I ended up with Mono at the beginning of my sophomore year and so ended up being home schooled for the fall of my sophomore year. I tried to go back in spring, but it was just too hard after being gone so long. Mom found a private school that worked differently than any other in town. It was called Duane Lake Academy. It was only Tues/Thurs. The rest of the week we had to document the hours we worked. Those hours had to add up to 15 in order for the system to work. It was awesome. Finally somewhere where everyone was a little screwed up and needed something different. I made friends that I still have today. I was able to start taking college classes at the community college as a junior. I graduated on time (with all of my friends that stayed in public school) with 15 semester hours already under my belt. My graduating class was 7 people. I applied to Texas A&M and to UT. I really wanted to go to A&M for their meteorology program - my plan was to be a meteorologist working for NASA. (That was my childhood dream, actually. I didn't want to be an astronaut, I wanted to be in mission control.) Because my graduating class was so small, the school wrote a letter to go along with my transcript that explained that since I had all of these hours of college, they considered me in the top 10% of the class (which, in Texas guaranteed admission to the public college of your choice). UT accepted me. A&M didn't. I ended up talking to the Dean of Admissions. He said that the letter just didn't count and my only shot at getting into A&M was to go to one of their satellite schools for 2 years and then transfer in. BASTARDS. So I went to UT. For a semester. I ended up busting my knee halfway through the semester and had no way to make it around campus (they don't call it The 40 Acres for nothing). So I withdrew. I tried again that next spring, but once again fucked up my knee. So I gave up. I went to the community college instead (which suited me better than taking a class with 300 students, when I was used to taking a class with only 5). I've taken a class here and there for the past 10 years as I wishy-washed about what I wanted to do with my life.
I've finally figured out that I want to work in medicine (because my whole family is in medicine - Dad is a doctor, Mom's a nurse, Sis is a knowledge sponge and thus knows all this crap about medicine and now has decided to be a nurse herself). But I can only do so much physically right now. Of all the medical specialties, I really find radiology fascinating. Particularly CT and MRI - which is where all the really cool technology is. So I'm going to start taking classes to get my certification as a radiology technician. I really think it will fit me well.
Even though I didn't graduate from UT, I still am a Longhorn and I still bleed orange. I love UT and college football. The only NFL team I follow closely is the Texans. I celebrate my Houston heritage. I also follow Astros baseball. I've been an Astros fan since I was in utero, so I've always felt compelled to root for them.
I can't think I've really missed much about me. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
Hi. My name is Emily.
I was born on Christmas Day 1980 here in Houston. For serious. Christmas. Do I get gypped on presents? (EVERYONE asks this question.) No. Mom always made sure that my birthday was a separate celebration from Christmas. We would do the presents under the tree first thing in the morning. We'd have Christmas dinner in the early afternoon. After dinner, my aunt, cousin, and sister would make my birthday cake - homemade red velvet. As that was baking, Mom would replace the Christmas decorations in the dining room with birthday party swag. When the cake was done, we'd get together in the dining room and have my birthday party. We'd have my birthday cake and I'd open my birthday presents. Mom required the family to wrap my birthday presents in non-Christmas paper. I hold that rule to this day - wrapping my birthday present in Christmas paper is a giant no-no.
My family moved to Austin when I was 1, and my sister was born 2 years later. I lived in Austin until just a couple of years ago. It's a giant culture shock to go from a town of only half a million or so to something like 4 million. It takes 30 minutes to drive from the north end of Austin to the south side. In Houston, it takes 30 minutes to drive about 15 miles. Basically, in Houston, everything is 30+ minutes away (and 30 minutes is CLOSE) whereas, in Austin, close is 5 minutes. *shakes head*
I was sexually molested, psychologically/emotionally/physically abused by my father. This went on from the time I was a toddler until I moved out of the house at 18. In order to survive, my brain disassociated from what was happening. This created memories, but they were buried way back in my unconscious. I only started to remember these memories at 21. However, I acted out all of the warning signs of child sexual molestation. I was constantly depressed, even as a young child. I was way too stressed out as a child. I started getting migraines at age 8. As I got older, I started acting out sexually - we got AOL when I was in 8th grade and I would troll the sex chat rooms and have cybersex. I was totally depressed as an adolescent. I was constantly suicidal, having plans and telling Mom how I wanted to die. I would also have giant screaming matches with her. I understand now, after being in therapy, that this yelling was my only way of getting out all the anger I had built up about being abused by Dad. I couldn't yell at him without horrible retribution, so I yelled at her. At age 11 I started telling her to get a divorce. She was miserable with Dad, and Sis and I were, too. Things I remember now are taking abuse so that he wouldn't harm others - he'd threaten to kill our cat if I told. He told me that if I let him do things to me, he wouldn't do anything to Mom or Sis (even though he said the same thing to them, thus playing all of us against each other). My scariest memory is being in the dark in my parent's bedroom with a pistol pressed against my temple. I can feel to this day the cold metal on my face. I can hear the click of the gun being cocked. He told me that if I ever told he'd kill me. He then pulled the trigger. I thought I was dead. However, it was an empty chamber. This is the sadistic stuff I went through.
I had my first boyfriend at 15. He was 19. We had sex after just a few weeks. That relationship lasted for a couple of years. When I was 19, I met my next boyfriend. He was 5 years my senior. I loved him so much. He was amazingly sweet and caring. I wanted to marry him, but he couldn't commit. I stayed with him for 5 years until things just fell apart completely. 6 months later I met my girlfriend. My first foray into homosexuality. She was amazing. Our relationship was stormy and ended when she just couldn't understand me and what I was going through anymore. She's now been with a new woman named Emily. Creepy, I know.
So basically, I'm up for anyone. I'd prefer being with a woman... what with all of the icky memories of being with Dad, I'd rather not have more experiences with real penises for a while. But, who knows. I'm definitely a lipstick lesbian, which seems to not send a strong enough signal for people's gaydar to detect. I need to figure out how to work on that.
But, I know that right now I'm not in any shape to actually have an intimate relationship. I'm just too screwed up. Maybe once I have straightened myself out more, stopped living with Mom, going to school, etc., I will start looking.
I have had one technical suicide attempt. It was really more of a "pay attention to how fucked up I feel" attempt, but it technically counted, since I swallowed a handful of pills. The hospital pumped my stomach, which was really abusive in itself, since the male nurse had his groin right in my face while a tube was shoved down my throat and I couldn't breathe.
I've stayed in two psych hospitals. One was so gross and scary I convinced the doctor to let me go by acting not crazy after only being there a day. The second place was a lot better and I stayed for a week and it actually wasn't a bad experience.
I love my cats. Currently, we have five living in the house. Cole Porter, Andrew, and Persephone (Sophie/Fluffy) live in the main part of the house. Bob Fosse and Nutmeg (Meg) live in Mom's room. We also have Furr Elise (Elise/Leesie) and Bandit, who are the rescues from Mom's work and who live outside in a large enclosure. They are sisters and are so sweet together. They are getting more and more used to us. At some point, we'll have to get them fixed, but not until it gets cooler outside.
I love all animals, really. I've had fish, frogs, and gerbils as pets over the years.
I knit. Well, I used to knit constantly, but my hands ache too much to do much right now. But I love it. I also paint. I haven't the space in my room right now, but people tell me I'm pretty good. I'm not so sure, but okay.
I'm both a theatre and band geek. I LOVE theatre. It's so inclusive. There is absolutely no judgment about people in theatre. It's come as you are. And, I have a very big pet peeve about this: when talking about the art, stage plays, actors, etc., it's theatre. When talking about the place where the play is performed then it ends in "er." DO NOT mix these up. It's annoying. I played clarinet and bass clarinet in band starting in 6th grade. In 7th I switched to bass and that was an excellent move for me. I ended up having solos and solis with other instruments in performances. That particular year, we went to a competition where we played at Lincoln Center in D.C. It was AMAZING. However, in reality, from the stage? Lincoln Center has crap acoustics. Almost all of my best friends are from band and theatre. Some are band-adjacent. My second major boyfriend played tuba for the Longhorn Band. I can't hear tuba music or see tubas without thinking about him. It makes me smile. And I can always pick out bass clarinet parts in music. And I still remember my parts in the Sousa marches, and annoy Mom by singing them "Boom boom boom boom"-style every 4th of July.
I am a complete bibliophile. My room is covered in books. I read all genres. My only caveat is that the book is good.
Education: Because the stress I was under as a kid made me physically ill (my brain would actually create a fever so I wouldn't have to go to school and I could rest after being up all night with Dad), I missed a hell of a lot of school. I still made almost all straight A's, but only by the skin of my teeth. I squeaked by doing the same thing through middle school and my freshman year of high school. I ended up with Mono at the beginning of my sophomore year and so ended up being home schooled for the fall of my sophomore year. I tried to go back in spring, but it was just too hard after being gone so long. Mom found a private school that worked differently than any other in town. It was called Duane Lake Academy. It was only Tues/Thurs. The rest of the week we had to document the hours we worked. Those hours had to add up to 15 in order for the system to work. It was awesome. Finally somewhere where everyone was a little screwed up and needed something different. I made friends that I still have today. I was able to start taking college classes at the community college as a junior. I graduated on time (with all of my friends that stayed in public school) with 15 semester hours already under my belt. My graduating class was 7 people. I applied to Texas A&M and to UT. I really wanted to go to A&M for their meteorology program - my plan was to be a meteorologist working for NASA. (That was my childhood dream, actually. I didn't want to be an astronaut, I wanted to be in mission control.) Because my graduating class was so small, the school wrote a letter to go along with my transcript that explained that since I had all of these hours of college, they considered me in the top 10% of the class (which, in Texas guaranteed admission to the public college of your choice). UT accepted me. A&M didn't. I ended up talking to the Dean of Admissions. He said that the letter just didn't count and my only shot at getting into A&M was to go to one of their satellite schools for 2 years and then transfer in. BASTARDS. So I went to UT. For a semester. I ended up busting my knee halfway through the semester and had no way to make it around campus (they don't call it The 40 Acres for nothing). So I withdrew. I tried again that next spring, but once again fucked up my knee. So I gave up. I went to the community college instead (which suited me better than taking a class with 300 students, when I was used to taking a class with only 5). I've taken a class here and there for the past 10 years as I wishy-washed about what I wanted to do with my life.
I've finally figured out that I want to work in medicine (because my whole family is in medicine - Dad is a doctor, Mom's a nurse, Sis is a knowledge sponge and thus knows all this crap about medicine and now has decided to be a nurse herself). But I can only do so much physically right now. Of all the medical specialties, I really find radiology fascinating. Particularly CT and MRI - which is where all the really cool technology is. So I'm going to start taking classes to get my certification as a radiology technician. I really think it will fit me well.
Even though I didn't graduate from UT, I still am a Longhorn and I still bleed orange. I love UT and college football. The only NFL team I follow closely is the Texans. I celebrate my Houston heritage. I also follow Astros baseball. I've been an Astros fan since I was in utero, so I've always felt compelled to root for them.
I can't think I've really missed much about me. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.