I have been cleaning out my closet today (a very bad decision), and I ran across some old journals. Apparently, in December of 2008 I was reading Dickens (not surprising because I read him every December) and he seemed to have taken quite a toll on my writing style. The fact that I was journaling in an old-timey Alice and Wonderland book probably didn't help.
12/12/08 (Flight to Garland, TX)
"Dare I say it, but I have been imagining myself as a trapeze artist walking along the plane's wing for a good twenty minutes. I should think that a most queer profession, and I do wonder how one even becomes a trapeze artist. Do you awaken one morning with the notion that flying through the sky wearing tights and balancing with a pole is something that would give you great pleasure? Nay, I should think one is born with the idea. Even as a babe you should decide upon it. Without those many years to muster up courage, I should believe not a soul would go into such a business as that of a trapeze artist."
Nineteen year old Emily was pretty awesome.