How do I begin? What do I say? Well, I've heard from others who write diaries say why they started writing their own. Some tell me they've been writing diaries since they were very young, or when they first learned how to write. For others...the diary-writing experience begins with a significant event or a significant choice they've made. Well...this is my first entry: and the rather significant choice I'd made was to go into one of those famous taverns the locals here talk about. Places where absolutely anything and everything happens; where absolutely anyone and everyone meets. Not to mention, where danger abounds with every step one can possibly take. Sound scary? I thought so too...until I made the choice to go. I needed a break; it had been a rough work week. So it was a perfect thing to do on a weekend...specifically August 6, 2005:
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Emily Moyra Byrne (Yahoo I.D.: redheaded_clairvoyant) Saturday night...and she was off-duty. How good it felt to have a break after a week's arduous work. Nothing to worry about...or rather, that wasn't so accurate: the 23-year-old redhead did have at least one concern. And that concern spun circles around her mind as she kicked up pebbles that led up to the front porch of the tavern ahead. Emily was at least 5 feet away from the establishment when her mind granted her a break from mulling, her perceptiveness now focused on the behemoth of an establishment that in itself cast a shadow from a full-moon encrusted on a clear dark-blue canvas. Quickly, she closed the more-or-less five feet gap and climbed the porch stairs up to the establishment. <c>
Emily Moyra Byrne Sounds of laughter and idle chatter wafted from inside, occasionally muffled and amplified by the closing and opening of the establishment's door, a tavern she realized. In one swooping close of the door, Emily reached out and took hold of it with a firm, right, alabaster hand. She pulled it open slowly, flashes of the many who had touched that very same door passing through her brain. When the flashes stopped, she shook her head slowly and mouthed the word "Wow..." eyebrows raised, obviously having seen more than she needed to know. Slowly, she peeked her head inside, the rest of her body gradually came out from behind the door and she took her first-step ever inside this particular tavern. She could be called a tavern-virgin in many respects, <c>
Emily Moyra Byrne <c>hardly, if ever, did she come around taverns...except if it had to do with work, but even that was only minutes of her time. Tonight she thought she tried it through the 'kick-back' venue: come and hang simply to relax. Standing at 5'2" and a mere weigh-in at 124 pounds, she wore a white wife-beater tanktop and Dickies khaki trousers with black hiking boots, all under a long, black cashmere coat. Her voluminous red hair was loose tonight, as opposed to many hours during her workday when it was usually up in a bun or ponytail, and a smile played over her lips. "Yeah...this is gonna be fun." she nodded to herself, more in blissful relief to try something new and the optimism in her tone drawn from the feeling. <c>
Emily Moyra Byrne <c>In a casual move, Emily let go of the door and took her steps to the side, watching a couple made to exit the tavern. Biting her lip slightly, but keeping that smile on her face, she turned her gaze out in front of her, looking for a seat...maybe where the drinks might be. She was thirsty, she realized. <e>
O.k...so far, so good, right? I remember the place that night. It was busy. So many chats going on, so much activity. It's really hard to describe beyond