Monday, June 6, 2011


So I read this blog where people post notes to their future girlfriends/boyfriends, and it is quite interesting. Some of them are sweet, some are funny, some are risqué, some are lists of specific qualities they are looking for, some are describing like the perfect date they have planned. They are all different and I like to read them. I like to imagine that my future boyfriend has posted one of the sweet notes and is out there waiting for me.

But there is one aspect of these notes that I don’t agree with really. Most of the notes end with “I love you. Love, Me.” For some reason, it kind of bothers me that they say “I love you” to an abstract person that they haven’t met yet. Now some of the note-writers have met the person they are writing to and are crushing on them and hoping that one day the feeling will be mutual. Saying “I Love You” in that case is OK with me. But when you haven’t met yet? I just feel like how can you love someone you don’t even know yet?

Now I know what you are going to say, “But Emily! I’ve heard you say that you love Rupert Grint! You haven’t met him and yet you say love him!”

I guess I don’t “love” Rupert Grint. My infatuation with him was more a product of teenage fantasy. Do I think Rupert Grint will ever be my boyfriend? Nope. And honestly? I don’t think being his girlfriend would be that great. I mean getting chased by the paparazzi all the time doesn’t sound very romantic. So I guess I promise not to say that I love Rupert Grint anymore. I admire his acting. I think he’s attractive and funny. But I do not love him. Besides…having a crush is definitely different then loving someone.   

Now I love many people at the moment and I love them for specific reasons. My parents? I love them because they gave me everything and more. My brother? I love him because he is funny and caring and helpful and cool. My family? I love them because no matter how long we are apart, we still come back together so well. My friends? I love them because they make me laugh and make my life more interesting. I even love inanimate things—like history and TCU and my car. Why? Because they have changed my life for the better. And of course I love Jesus because He is all of course.

But my future boyfriend(s)? Nope, I can’t say that I love him/them yet. Even if my future boyfriend is one of my current male friends, I wouldn’t say I love them yet. I love them as a friend, platonically. Not romantically. I can’t even say that I love any crushes I’ve had—I think love has to grow over time. I’m not a love-at-first-sight girl. Attraction at first sight? Sure. Love? No.

I was trying to think of another scenario that would make this easier to understand. The only thing that I could think of is my future children. I guess abstractly I love my future kids. It’s just so hard to imagine having kids right now. I mean I’m 21! But I’m sure when/if I get pregnant I’ll immediately love that baby the moment the strip turns pink. It’ll be no larger than a peanut, yet I’ll love it. But right now? If someone asked me “Do you love your future kids?” I’d say “No.” Does that make me a bad person? I hope not. I love the idea of having kids when I’m 30+. There’s an ad in the Target baby department with a red-haired baby and his mom and every time I walk by it I smile. I smile because hopefully one day it’ll be me giving a red-haired baby a bath. (I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this on Facebook, but my ovaries long for a red-haired baby really bad!) So do I love my kids right now? No. Will I someday? Absolutely. I want to be the best mom I can possibly be.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I love the idea, the potential, the dreams. Not the actual person yet.

So if I was going to write a note to my future boyfriend on the blog, it’d go like this:

Dear Future Boyfriend,

I can’t honestly say that I love YOU yet, but I do love the thought of you.

But I promise to fall in love with you while we date as long as you treat me well and like Harry Potter. Also I would prefer if you weren’t allergic to cats, as I plan to have at least 2.

Unfortunately, I do have two demands of you….you must be a Christian and you must have redheaded genes. Other than that? I’m cool. Oh sorry one more demand……you must always wear a belt if you need it. Baggy pants aren’t sexy.

Can’t wait to discuss literature with you!

Love (in a platonic way for now),


Friday, May 20, 2011


I read a lot of blogs. A LOT. Yet my own blog is dead at the moment--hence the fact no one will read this post. So how do I get my blog going?

I've read plenty of tips about increasing traffic on your blog, and the time has come for me to apply these tips. It's summer after all so I have more time to focus on my blog. I have more time to think up posting ideas. I have more time to visit other blogs. So here is what I need to do to get my blog up and truly running.

1) I need to comment on a lot of the blogs I read--people will read my comments and if they like them, they will click on my blog. My only problem is I read a lot of blogs of people who are in their mid-to-late 20s. I don't really follow that many people who are college-age. I am worried that people will think it is odd that I read their blogs when I'm obviously not in the same place in life as they are. They might think it's weird that a college junior is following them. I've always been mature for my age though and I like reading about their lives. I guess if they want they can just delete my comments from their blog if they don't like them or think I'm too young or naive.

2) I need to post regularly on this blog! Obviously you can see from my sidebar I have not been posting regularly--I average a post every couple of months. Regularity is key. Several people I follow write a whole bunch of posts at once and then time them to be released at certain times. I could write a bunch of posts this summer and then when I am really busy doing the school year I can put up pre-written posts. I just have to have the motivation to do it! I have sooo many things to do this summer, but I need to make room for this if I want a popular blog.

3) I need to focus on a theme, but I am not sure how. The tips I have read say to pick one topic (like cooking or traveling or weddings) and focus only on that. But I have too many interests to do that. I guess my overreaching theme is Issues of a College Student. I know a lot of the problems I have are probably not very big compared to post-college issues, but I believe I can make some insights, and maybe I will gain a topic-appropriate audience. So I will try not to focus on petty things or not to complain too much.

4) I need to dress up my blog a bit--maybe learn HTML or use my basic design skills. I do not know yet how I will do this, but I think attractiveness does attract readers. I also need to work on my photography skills and maybe invest in a better camera. People like pictures to break things up.

So this summer will be the summer of the blog. I hope.    

Monday, May 2, 2011

How do I feel about this?

I’m supposed to be studying right now, but this thought wouldn’t leave me alone. So I figured I’d just write this out and then go back to reading about the Dirty Wars.

This morning while looking at a collage of newspaper front pages dealing with the death of bin Laden on, I was struck by how coarse the headlines were.

There were the typical ones: Bin Laden killed by U.S. forces, Bin Laden dead, U.S. Forces kill Osama, Al-Qaeda leader dead, etc.

But then there were some that made me raise an eyebrow:

ROT IN HELL! screamed the New York Daily News.

GOT HIM! Vengeance at last! US nails the bastard! the New York Daily Post roared.

We got the bastard! the Philadelphia Daily News exclaimed.

The Jamaican Gleaner stated ‘Obama gets Bin Laden!’

We got him! the Fort Worth Star-Telegram says

Many papers just said DEAD. Short and effective.

As a former Journalism student I understand the need for outrageous headlines—especially when every single paper has the exact. same. cover. story. But is this really necessary? I mean yes, bin Laden is dead. But the Al-Qaeda movement is still working; there’s a second-in-command who will probably rise up. We can’t just think we won the war. I hope the US doesn’t get lured into a false sense of security.

Plus as a Christian, it makes me sick to hear of rejoicing at death. There are quotes throughout the Bible speaking against this, most notable the second greatest commandment “Love your enemies as yourself.” I think we should be praying for bin Laden’s soul. Also—all sins are equal, so really I’m just as bad as bin Laden is.

I think your reaction to his death is a great indicator of psychology. If you are from New York or Washington DC, you are probably more affected because it is closer to home. You are more likely to have lost a friend or a family member than someone from Texas.

As a Libertarian, I bristled when I saw the Gleaner’s headline—I don’t think Obama “got” bin Laden. I think the armed forces were the most responsible, and Bush 43 and Obama both get credit. But it once again shows a difference—an American feels stronger about bin Laden’s death than a non-American. A Republican feels differently than a Democrat. It’s just human nature I think.

Because I live in Texas, a lot of the statuses on my Facebook wall last night had to do with “God Bless the USA”, “GWB helped too”, and “Justice has been done!” But I also have a lot of Christian friends (because I am a Christian and participate in a lot of Christian activities) and their statuses were consists of things like “Do not rejoice when your enemy falls”, “Love your enemy”, and “Pray for OBL’s soul”

 I find the difference between those people who are country-first vs. God-first to be fascinating. Such a contrast. I watched those people yelling in front of the White House on the news and I thought, “I would never do that. I would never feel that strong about it.” I am sad for the loss of those 3000 people that died on 9/11 and I do feel “glad” that OBL is dead just because he can’t hurt people anymore. But I would never say “Rot in Hell!” or call OBL a bastard. That is just not me.

Have I ever said on Facebook that in March 2001 I went to NYC over Spring Break and I went up the 1st Tower? I stood on top of the Twin Towers. And now no current 10-year-old will ever be do that again. It is the end of an era indeed. Do I feel like my childhood has ended because of OBL’s death? No. Honestly I think the end of Harry Potter in July signifies the end more than this.

When my Dad told me the Twin Towers fell that day in September 2001, the first thing I remember thinking is “I hope no visitors were on top.” I still remember standing up there so tall and proud. For a shortie 10-year-old it was a big moment.

I know none of these thoughts are new, but I needed to get them off my chest. Now I need to travel back in time to Argentina and concentrate on the Dirty War.       

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Reading into my Soul

“Your library is your portrait.” –Holbrook Jackson

I came across the above quote a few weeks ago, but I didn’t think much of it. I have a few books at school with me, but not enough to be considered a “library”. So I saved it in my “Interesting Quotes” document in Word and forgot about it.

But this weekend I went home and I found myself staring at the two bookshelves in my room, wondering if it was true. Did my bookshelves reflect me? Would someone looking at those shelves know the essence of Emily E. Sears?

And what I realized is that they would. They would KNOW me, know my interests, know my values, and know what is important to me. My bookshelves are a reflection of myself. They show my past, my present and my future. As cheesy as it sounds, I truly believe my “essence” is contained within those shelves. 

Someone examining the shelves for my essence would first have to notice the sheer number of books. Not only is every space full, but books are stacked on top of each other and there is more than one row of books on each shelf. The mere fact that I have TWO bookshelves in my room shows my love of books. When I got my second shelf, I jumped up and down while my Dad put it together, exclaiming “Now I can get even MORE books!!”

The second thing they would probably notice is the unorganized structure of the books. This would seem contrary to my nature (a total stranger would think I hate organization which is absolutely NOT true), but due to the sheer number of books I have (see above) it is impossible for me to organize my shelves. Books go wherever there is room. But there is one exception—my series of books. Every series that I own goes with its mates. I think the unknown observer would realize that I love series. Within my shelves I have the Chronicles of Narnia, all the Anne of Green Gables books, the Little House on the Prairie series, and Nancy Drew books, among others. I have nearly an entire shelf dedicated to the Chicken Soup for the Soul series (last time I counted I had about 20 of those books from every stage of life).

But the main series on my shelf is (of course) Harry Potter. I have all 7 of the main novels along with 3 companion books. These 10 books sit exactly at eye level—the 3rd shelf of the first bookcase—the prime spot if you will. One looking at the shelf has to know I am a major Harry Potter nerd (and if they needed any more confirmation, they merely have to turn to the right of my shelves and see the giant poster of the HP Trio on the wall).

My books are reflective of my life. They show where I’ve been versus where I’m going. There are books from high school that I hated reading at 15 that I now love. There are travel guides that I poured over while I was planning my trips to London, Paris, Rome, Alaska, Scandinavia. There are books I received as a child that I still love and will always love no matter what my age. There are books that I currently use and love—books on religion that I study, books on history that now go with my major, books on journalism that still interest me. There are books on my future goals—books on editing, on playwriting, books describing places that I have not been yet but want to desperately. Books on getting published, books on growing up. There are books that I fully intend to pass on to my children.

Most of all, the books on my shelves show my interests. The majority of my books are either Christian fiction/study books, historical fiction and nonfiction, travel books/guides, or romance novels. Doesn’t that just sound like me? Logically it makes sense—why would I keep a book that didn’t interest me? But I just like knowing that those books are “me”. I like knowing that if I had to describe myself without any kind of words I could merely take someone to my 2 bookshelves and point.

Don’t judge a book by its cover, but do judge a reader by the contents of their bookcases.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

What People Notice, What People Know

I was thinking about how I recognize people the other day. As some of you might know, I spend a lot of my time at the TCU Wesley Foundation’s house. This house has a parking lot that is often full of cars. I know the cars. I know the people in those cars.

I recognize who is there based on their car. Once I cross the parking lot, and enter the back door, I’m expecting to see a certain person there. If there’s a turquoise car, it’s Abby. A tan car? Bennett. A white van? Taylor. A blue truck? Kelly. If they are not there I feel a bit cheated. Of course in the middle of the day, most people just park there and then go to class. But if I’m walking in for Thursday Night Fellowship at 7 and your car is there, I’m looking for you.

Why are people’s belongings so recognizable? How do we make associations? I feel like a Psych major.

Another example in my life. When it comes to eating out, I’m a “If it’s not broke why fix it?” type of girl. I always order the same things at most restaurants. But this is more about the recognition of my choices. At the Starbucks near Target in Rockwall, I have established a relationship. For the longest time I was A-Grande-Caramel-Macchiato-With-Three-Vanilla-Scones-If-You-Have-Them Girl. The workers KNEW me, knew my order. Why did it matter so much to me? I was associated with my coffee order for the longest time, and I liked that. (Eventually we got on a first-name basis until I went off to college. Now there are new people working there, and my days as A-Grande-Caramel-Macchiato-With-Three-Vanilla-Scones-If-You-Have-Them Girl are over.) I worked at the Target in Rockwall, so I came to that Starbucks often, either for sustenance pre-work or for a OMG-I-Survived-Another-Shift celebratory drink post-work. They knew me because I was reliable, a quality that I both love and hate about myself.

Lest you think my days of building relationships with restaurateurs are over, I would like to inform you that at Red Cactus I am now Chicken-Taco-Plate-With-Flour-Tortillas-And-Double-Rice Girl. I’ve got two more years to get on a first-name basis.

I guess my point is, whether you like it or not, people know you by the things you do and the things you own. If you always drive a blue car, people know. If you get the same meal, people notice. Even people you might not expect to. People notice the good things you do and the bad. So be aware.    

Friday, March 18, 2011

If I Were A.....

So I want to restart my blog. Maybe I need to put up a refresher eh?

If I were a month, I’d be May (my birthday month and still cool enough to be Spring)
If I were a day of the week, I’d be Friday (because I like the anticipation of the weekend, and Friday night is always my 'fun' night)
If I were a time of day, I’d be morning (Like 8-9 am. I'm definitely a morning person when I go to bed on time!)
If I were a planet, I’d be Earth (All the rest are too hot or too cold. I feel like Goldilocks, but Earth is 'just right'!)
If I were a sea animal, I'd be a seahorse
If I were a direction, I’d be South (I love warm weather. I'm definitely a Texan now.)
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a footstool
If I were a liquid, I’d be Dr. Pepper
If I were a gemstone, I’d be a diamond
If I were a tree, I’d be a dogwood tree
If I were a tool, I’d be a level
If I were a flower, I’d be a daisy
If I were a kind of weather, I’d be warm and sunny (75 is good)
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a violin 
If I were a color, I’d be light blue
If I were an emotion, I’d be excitement
If I were a fruit, I’d be a peach
If I were a sound, I’d be the wind
If I were an element, I’d be earth
If I were a car, I’d be a Volkswagen Bug!
If I were a food, I’d be spaghetti
If I were a place, I’d be the woods
If I were a material, I’d be cotton
If I were a taste, I’d be sweet
If I were a scent, I’d be vanilla
If I were an object, I’d be a pen (see below)
If I were a body part, I’d be fingers (writing is my passion)
If I were a facial expression, I’d be a incredulous look (something I do often)
If I were a song, I’d be one of Beethoven's symphonies
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be flip-flops