Like you were never emo... liar.

Emo (n.): A contagious disease that first manifests in kids of middle school or high school age. If left untreated, it can become a debilitating, life-long illness.

It's sad, but true--we have all had our bouts of emo-ness. Mine was during my sophomore and junior years of high school. I looked like this:



I know it's difficult, but try not to get too excited. Baggy jeans, black sweatshirt (with a black band t-shirt underneath), and hair slicked back in a way-too-tight pony tail. Ohhh yeeeah.

But the look wasn't the worst side effect of my disease. I wish. Unfortunately, it was the Xanga.

On August 6, 2003 (keep in mind, I was 16 years old), my friend Andra and I started a blog of "bitter and cynical rantings." It was supposed to be a joke. We wanted to mock the obnoxiously upbeat blogs of our classmates. Sadly, I think we got a little too into it. I blame the emo; it polluted our minds.

Anyway, I thought that since this Xanga blog is still on the internet (thanks Pam, for telling me), I should share some of my best posts. I feel okay doing this for two reasons. First, it's too funny not to. Second, I know you won't judge me. Right? Right? Okay... ready, go!

From August 8, 2003: "And why does everyone think they're punk? Ooh, I wear converse shoes and Atticus shirts, I listen to Blink 182 and Sum 41 and I drive a lifted truck! I'm so punk! Blink 182 and Sum 41 both really suck and they're not 'punk.' Or there are the butt-flap wearing, freaky hair dyed, Ramones listening-to vegans who want 'world peace and equality.' They're SO punk. What is punk, anyway? Do any of you know? If so, write it in our little chatterbox crap thing. All right, whatever."

(And no, the irony of this is NOT lost on me, hahaha.)

August 17th: "Band camp starts tomorrow and anyone who is even remotely excited should be shot. Sorry guys, but it's wrong. It's sick and wrong. Andra and I plan to kill ourselves tomorrow around 8:50... be there. Should be fun to watch."

August 20th: "Now more than ever, I hate mr. cook, I hate mr. sybilski, I hate the football players (for taking the field at night and forcing us into the brutal sun), I hate bandos, I hate band, I hate the sun and I hate you."

August 31st: "Too many people bother me... but my excuse it that they're all the same... if one's annoying, they're all annoying."

September 7th: "The worst thing about this weekend was probably finding out why I don't get guys. My take on the subject was because I'm nasty. But according to Andra, it's because I'm 'scary.' I apparently look like I'd yell at someone or beat them up if they said hi to me... which is so not true."

And the true gem (btw, I totally spelled that "jem" at first... awesome) = a modified version of the poem from "10 Things I Hate About You":

"I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair
I hate the way that we are 'friends'
I hate the way I care
I hate your big dumb smile and the way that you say 'Hi!'
I hate you so much it makes me sick
I wish that you would die
I hate the way you're always 'nice'
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry"

Oh, yes... I did. Truly horrifying, isn't it? hahaha yeah...

Anyway, I was cured of my emo after being mocked by a quasi-friend on AIM. It was that simple!

So there you have it. The moral of the story? You CAN stop the spread of emo.