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Please give a short bio of yourself for our readers. Born in the grand ol' town of Columbia, Maryland on September 28, 1982. I was created in Ocean City, MD, however, in a hotel room. I have one mommy and one daddy, two younger brothers with separate, wicked senses of humor, and two sister calico cats; Tess is fat and Tempest likes to be drunk. I grew up with music in my heart (piano and violin for ten odd years, singing since I was old enough to screech), and art in my hands (I taught myself to draw [not well, mind you]). I go to a renowned, liberal, well-thought-of, private college. I despise it. But, since being here, I figured out my main walks in life. Music, history, anthropology. And I like the onion rings here. I enjoy being the strange, odd, stupid one, because someone must do it. I am depressed. I am Jewish. I am vegetarian. Though I don't care if you make fun of Prozac or sing the dreidal song to me or if your meat accidentally touches my cottage cheese. I hate coleslaw but love dipping potato chips in apple sauce. I am a balanced Libra. Don't argue with me if your stance is weak, or if you are stupid. But if you are smart, I'll just wander around stupidly and drool a little. I am special. Why did you choose this username? I like to be original. When I first entered the net life, I found that usernames are friggin hard to pick. I don't want numbers, I don't want misspelled names, I don't want anything that looks like anything else. So, one day, I thought back to a dream. I was watching a really hot doctor do an autopsy on a skeleton. Suddenly, he starts to scream: OH MY GOD...IT...IT HAS EMYSTICA!! I wake up and chuckle. Tee hee. What a cool dream, what a cool word, Emystica. I search the dictionary, I search the net. It exists in neither. I coulda sworn I had heard it before, I can't be that cool in my dreams. But I found the original name I was searching for. Ta da. Emystica! Why do you keep a diary online? God only knows. God, and maybe Tess. My friend Al showed me hers one day about a year ago. I instantly wanted one. I realized from day one that I would be writing for an audience. Meaning, I must make myself slightly interesting. Like many, I needed a place to let my thoughts flow. I write only when the muses bite me in the butt and it's rather passionate. So I figured I'd give Dland a try,let things flow, see if I get a reaction. Sometimes I do, sometimes not. It's life. I also think that the world must see the wonderfulness that is the Emy. Because the world needs Emy. Emy is part of a well balanced diet. Emy - The quicker picker upper. How important do you think a layout is for a web-based diary? Would you also comment on yours? I used to think it was very important. After viewing many a beeyootiful layout, I then realized, these people are boring, cannot write well, and most likely just got a really good designer. Layouts may let me linger more than a template, but if you ain't interesting, I ain't reading. Ya hear? *spit* My own layout is pretty, but old. It worked for me about 6 months ago, but now I wish to move on. I have learned a lot more HTML than before (all self taught), and I really wish to change my theme to a desert one. As long as the layout doesn't hurt my eyes and is very easy to navigate, I like it. The one thing that keeps me from changing my layout until I know exactly what I want, is my banner. The line underneath my big, green, spooky, misty name, "A point in every direction is the same as no point at all" sums me up extremely well. Plus, it's from an old cartoon movie, aptly named "The Point", that I watched as a kid. Simple beauty that serves a purpose appeals to me. You write in your diary you miss Israel. Tell us about Israel, and what you miss? Oooh, you really want me to write a novel, heh. I traveled to Israel in June of 2000 with some kids in my synagogue. I was not looking forward to it. These kids were all at least 2 years younger than I; I was a 17 year old senior trying to deal with those not even thinking about college or life thereafter. I debated whether or not to go all the while; the pull to the Holy Land just wasn't as deep with me then. I rarely paid attention when our leader, Jerry, told us all about the place we were going. This changed drastically. I arrived, and instantly had a sense of belonging. The desert, the dry, hot air, the people, the beauty. I was there for 17 days. We stayed in hostels, which are low-grade, barely-hotels. We went to Mt. Masada, surrounded by the greenblue Dead Sea, at 4:30 in the morning. The ibex, gazelle like creatures suited for the desert, greeted us by walking up near vertical inclines and watching. Places visited: Western, or Wailing Wall, Dome of the Rock, Yad Vashem (Israeli Holocaust museum), Jerusalem, Jaffa, Golan Heights, and many more. I can talk forever about this. Really, forever. What do I miss? The bluntness and honesty of the people. The million cats that roamed everywhere from the cities to the desert to the mountains. Crawling through caves that had been inhabited by ancient Israelis when they fled the Romans. Eating and making merry with the Bedouins (nomads of the desert) and sleeping under their tents. The perfect nights. The desert. The art. The friends I made. The cucumber salad. The fact that Jewish *everything* was prominent, more than what I was used to at home. I miss the pride of the people. I think now, thanks to the attack, we (America) have acquired a small amount of that same sort of pride. Because they live with that fear everyday. All teens after they leave school go into the army by law. It's a way of life and they are fine with that. I also miss the hot Israeli guys. You want exotic dark haired, mysterious people? That's the place to go, baby. When you hear the word: self-esteem -- what does through Emystica's mind? Self esteem? I think of.....pudding. Self esteem is like pudding. To have much is good. To have none makes Emy very sad. I just made that all up. I know that I once had less than today. I had very good ideas coming from my brain, but not enough guts to bring them to reality. I was once very quiet. Yes, friends, I was quiet. The people I hang out with all have a very good sense of self-esteem. We speak our minds, we think about what we just said, we aren't afraid to say we are wrong. We like to test things and to try things and not afraid to like or dislike things. We don't do something solely because it is popular, and we don't disclude popular things just because they are mainstream, and therefor "bad". Not enough self esteem tends to make one a sheep. Too much makes their head so big I could tie a string around it and use it as a balloon. Self esteem is good. Just right. Just like pudding. Tell me about your religious beliefs I'm a Jew. I have dark curly hair and the aquiline nose, the big Jewish hips. Made for birthing, they are. Though my Jewish convictions aren't as strong as say, my common sensical convictions, I think my way of living has been molded by the Jewish religion. I don't murder, worship other gods, have affairs, or mix my meat with my milk (being a veggie, that's rather easy). I'm considered rather lax in my worship. I go to Friday night services when I have time and very much enjoy them. I will complain mightily when I have to go to Saturday morning services. I need my sleep. I love the songs and chants and the ideas. I also find myself disregarding the laws that don't make much sense in this day and age, or those that I just plain don't agree with. I believe in reincarnation, for instance. This isn't a Jewish belief, but I believe it, so...am I a bad Jew? I don't press my beliefs, whatever they are, on anyone, I'm curious about other's, I'm open to all ideas. I don't think I'm a bad Jew. Unless G-d says I am. Then I'm a very bad Jew. Bad, bad Jew! (Oh, the hyphen in G-d is there because it is Jewish law never to write the name of the Lord fully. Because you can't throw it away or destroy it. So, if I wrote it all out, this page would have to exist for all eternity. And we all know that Dland likes to hiccup every once in a while.) If you choose to believe in something, do it well, don't force others to think that your is the only way, and be openminded. That is all, my son.
Okay Emy -- I read the entry about the diaper, and laughed myself silly. How in the world did you come up with that journal entry, and better yet, WHY???? HA! Like I said, I am special. This came about...uh...you know what? I have no idea. Things just hit me. The muses latch onto my buttocks with a deathgrip and don't let go. Plus, I like to talk about poo. Poo is a wonderful thing to talk about. Everyone poos. Interviewed by Trinity63
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