friends.

So everybody graduated yesterday. It was really bittersweet. Alli, Basil, Collin, Ksenia and everyone did fantastic. I was so proud of all of them.

That evening there was a party at Ksenia's. I met some new people and hung out with my old friends. I remember sitting in between Ephraim and Ksenia against the wall in her basement, and Collin came and sat in my lap. Steven, Taylor, and this kid I met named Kelson were playing with the music on the other side of the room and Basil and Sam were just chilling there, making sexual innuendos like they always do. I just kind of took in the moment. New friends, old friends. It was nice to just sit and joke around with people after we haven't done that in a while, really. It felt really great and made me feel so lucky that I was a part of it all, finally.

I really hope our group of friends doesn't fade away once they all go off to college.

I don't know where John was throughout any of this. He wasn't at graduation, even though his name was in the program. Who knows with him, anyway. He's never predictable, I haven't heard from him in a long time.

I finished my short chick-lit book today. It was called Boy Meets Boy, and I actually liked it a lot. I recommend it. It was written quite well for one of those pastel-covered, witty romances popular among females between the ages of 12 and 15. My next endevor? I'm going to go back to Dracula. I'm disappointed I never even got to start reading it, even though I've been meaning to for a while. We've been reading short stories in English since we've finished Jane Eyre, to pass the time until finals. So far we've read Story of an Hour and Occurence at Owl Creek Bridge, both really interesting, somewhat freaky stories. Not as much as the next and last one we're reading -- Cask of Amontillado. It's by Edgar Allen Poe, my favorite author, but I haven't read this story yet. I'm excited to.

Anyway, I think my blogging bores people. I talk so much about myself it's not even funny. But then again, I guess that's the point of blogging, to release YOUR inner thoughts. It's also why I prefer blogging over journaling--I write too slow and my train of thought is too fast. Part of the restless generation I suppose. Typing helps me keep up.

Laterrr

Fear the unlived life: a ballad, told in haiku.

I come into this
World red-faced with tears streaming
Sweet life has begun

My first tooth appears
Everything else follows suit
I walk, talk, dance, sing

School is a strange place
The children aren't very nice
They take my lunch money

High school means questions:
Who am I? What do I want?
Sex, drugs, more mistakes

Dazed and confused in
the "real world." Life is bills and
heartbreak. I'm lonely.

Now bound in holy
Matrimony, life speeds up
Life passes me by

Children have children
I have grown old and very tired
Things are very quiet

Death comes to retrieve
Me from my solitary
Life. And so I die.

remembering.

The "few months left" I've been clinging to has turned into "two days left." The seniors graduate Thursday, the day after tomorrow.

I'm remembering.
The other day I was just going back to the stills and scenes that made up our past. Soon I want to go with a camera and take pictures of some of the familiar places around campus where we'd always hang. I may post them once I do.

Photographs spinning in my head
Memories that have merely gone to bed
Ready to wake up when the sun shall rise
Soothing our muffled, lonely cries

back.

I haven't really blogged in a while. No idea why, I've just been lazy.

GEEK ALERT! GEEK ALERT! So we've just finished reading Jane Eyre in English. The final book of the year. I can't believe it. I think it was an awesome book with so much mystery and suspense I almost couldn't stand it. I recommend it. Also, while being a nerd, I wrote a poem about it.

The Burning at Thornfield Hall

Edward Rochester sits high
Upon his mighty throne
Badly bruised and thick in brow
Heart as hard as stone.
Then one day a scraggled wanderer
Came and stood at his feet,
Questioned his coded vanity
And accused his pompous seat.
Her raised her on a pedestal,
So they could see eye-to-eye
But when he pushed her down, she stole his crown
And poor Rochester began to cry.

Also, today was the senior's last full day. I'm going to miss them so much. When I walked up to the hill after English today and saw everyone there, I got kind of teary eyed. John came up to me and said "this isn't goodbye, this is just a see you later" and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. (about that--I've relapsed a little but it's getting better. But in all honesty, I don't want it to get better anymore. I'm happy the way I am, and the way we are. It's a friendship now, but still a little more. He's no longer the source of my tears, which is a wonderful feeling). Graduation is a week from today--I'm so nervous/scared/excited/djshgfkjsdh/etc. It's going to be so weird seeing my friends, including John, walk up onstage in their caps and gowns and receive their diplomas. To see them all head off to college in pursuit of their lives, forgetting about me, their friend they left behind in high school.

Anyway, that's all for now. Laterrr

Nostalgia.

You may have read on my other blog a lot about this kid I used to know named Jesse. Well, lets start from the beginning...
Last year, I met Jesse in my acting class. He was cute, energetic, sweet, and fun to be around. I fell for him. Then he kept ditching class. I thought he was being stupid and asked him to come to class just to see me, because we were getting close. He said he would, but then he never showed up. We eventually went our separate ways and that was that.

Dear Jesse,

I'm sorry. But you're still an ignorant asshole. You fucking lied and you deserve to get suspended for more than two days this time. And I thought we had a good thing going. But you wouldn't listen to me, and you didn't care enough.

I miss who you were at the beginning of this semester. When I mattered. When I was your friend, instead of a piece of meat. Just another chick to flirt with, to lie to, to walk all over.

Sorry for freaking out.
Sorry for caring.
Sorry for wanting to be a good friend to you.
Sorry for wanting to apologize.
But truth is, I don't know why I am sorry.
Because I didn't do anything wrong.

You were a good friend when you were. Or was that just an act as well? I miss staying up late, texting you, and having deep discussions with you. Especially the last one we had.

I don't know if I ever got to thank you for those hugs you gave me when my grandpa died. And calling me that afternoon to make sure I was doing okay. I appreciated that a lot. Because I wasn't doing okay, I'm STILL not doing okay, on the 5 week anniversary of his death.

Now I don't even know what to do. Everything is falling apart. I want to call you, but I don't know if I should.

I want to go back to how life was three years ago.

Love,
Sarah
(from my old blog...April 22nd 2008)

So, to the present now...
I'm much more relaxed than I once was. I was going through a tough time when we first met, and that didn't do well with my nerves. So I was pretty uptight.

I came across his myspace tonight. He's abandoned his techno dreams and is playing guitar and alternative music now. He's different, and I'm not sure why. I haven't even talked to him, he may still be an asshole. Or maybe I'm the one that's different. Or maybe it's both.

Mind you, I'm not falling for him again. I would never do that, after what happened between us. But I just hope he accepts my friend request and we can become friends again. I hope.

Anyway, I've just been kind of nostalgic tonight. Maybe it's because the seniors will be gone and graduated in less than a month.

Mathematics.

1,036,800 minutes since our first meeting.
259, 200 minutes since the fateful realization.
24,480 minutes until the hopeless valediction.

108 cups of coffee drank.
5 million words written.
3 thousand tears I've cried.
And one person, smitten.

Pomp and Circumstance may play as you walk away, but there's one thing you should know: I will miss you when you sacrifice yourself for all the places you'll go.

another letter that will never be sent.

Dear Talia,
So we have been friends for years. I've always enjoyed your company--well, usually. You have always been the overachiever who had everything that I didn't. You have top grades, get into the best choirs, have the greatest relationship with your parents and you are always so damn nice to people who don't deserve it. I know you've had your insecurities but those insecurities should not cause you to want to be the master of the universe.
See, I don't get the best grades. I'm not dumb but I've never been academically gifted. I can't sing worth a damn, even though I always wished I could because everyone loves a girl who could sing. My relationship with my mom is less than satisfactory. I'm nice but not so nice where the people who don't deserve my kindness reap the benefits those who deserve it. There is a dividing line there, as there is one between everything about us.
TSYG and NFTY has always been my thing. It's been a stress reliever and has made me feel like a person that could be looked up to. TSYG board was my life. It kept me happy and strong when life was shitty. I breathed it in like air. It was the one thing I had above you, and though I never saw it as a heirarchy, it honestly was the good thing I could excel at more than you could. Or so I thought. You see, this past Sunday was Board elections for the 2009-2010 year. You against me. Inexperienced against experienced. I had the dedication and the good speech. You had the waterworks and pitiful eyes. You won.
I was absolutely heartbroken. I cried the hardest I've cried since my dog died. You took my pride and joy away from me, all because of a pity win. And the reason why you wanted to be on Board so bad wasn't because you wanted the best for TSYG. No, it was a much more shallow reason. It was because you wanted to be LIKED. Well guess what honey, Board or not, everyone loved you. Perfect, sweet Talia who did nothing wrong and who never stepped on anyone's toes. Yet you wanted the sole thing I had to hold onto and you got it.
I wish I could look at you the same way after Sunday. But I really can't, at least not now. I'm working on getting over my self-pity but it's hard to see someone so unqualified completely ruin what I loved in such a greedy way.
I may be unjust in feeling this way, but I truly don't think I am.
Love?,
Me

I began the novel today.

Well, actually, I began it a while ago. I wrote the preface a few weeks ago but polished it up. I also wrote the first draft of chapter one, and it will be inevitably polished again and again, because I'm rarely ever completely happy with my work. For the time being, anyway, I like it. The title is tentatively "The Original Manuscript Documenting the Story of a Hermit and One Corrupted by Society; A romance." My pen name being Emory Firestone. I'll post an excerpt eventually--but I need to write more first. I'm really excited for this.

By the way, I was the second biggest loser at the weigh in today =D hopefully I can keep this up.

I'm starting a new diet plan.

Alright, so the Biggest Loser thing is not going as well as I expected. So I'm going to try some extra things, and add more and more on each week.

Along with my daily run, this week I plan on:
Not eating after 6:30 PM
Drinking water or tea as a substitute for pop

Yeah, so that's my start. Again, my goal is to break 130 and I've kind of been slacking.

Fell off the wagon but am getting right back on.

Nothing works out right the first time around. Persistence results in success. There would be no success without failure.

Back and forth. Forth and back.
Remember, he's just another Colorado sunset.

Colorado sunset.

You're famous for your beauty, that much I'll admit. Your blue eyes shine like stars in the sky, looking down at the mess of me you've made. They change colors curiously, as you near the end of your lifetime, morphing into a gradient of hots and colds. Robin's egg blue to amber orange, royal purple to pitch black. A spectacular show; you put Vegas to shame. But pretty boy, never forget, you're just another Colorado sunset.

--

What can I say? He's still good for inspiration.

when you think tim mcgraw i hope you think my favorite song.

I hate how I always freak out when guys like me. I just get creeped out, even if I had nothing against them. Just the idea that someone likes me the way I like other guys is just a weird concept to me. That I'm always on their minds, that anything I do is just perfect or right, or that I'm the cause of one of those unrequited crushes that we've all experienced and loathed. That I'm inspiration for a song or poem. That they think of me when that special song comes on the radio. It's just a weird concept if you don't like them back.

By the way, my mom, aunts, and some of my girl cousins are starting this "Biggest Loser" contest. I signed up. Hopefully this is the motivation I need to shed the pounds I've been trying to lose for a long time. My goal is 10 lbs, but of course, I wouldn't be too upset if I lost more, haha.

Song of the moment (yes, more Taylor Swift):


Yeah. I love this song. :)
Peace.

PostSecrets.

I love the PostSecrets this week. I'm having trouble figuring out which one to write about first.

<3


Oh, and Emerson got engaged =D

"Did you know I fell in love with you under those leaves?"

It's a warm afternoon, the sun is still high in the sky even though it is nearing towards evening, casting a buttery warmth over the ground and the leaves. We jump into the pile like children, scattering all of our hard work. The leaves crunch under our weight but produce a soft and comfortable mattress, despite the stems and tips poking us through our jackets. Our faces are warm and flushed from the exercise, hands rough and filled with splinters from the wooden handle of the rake. You throw a handful of leaves at me, they get stuck in my hair and you have to help me untangle it. Our hands touch. Lips brush. An autumn afternoon, long ago, after you came and before you went.

"Did you know I fell in love with you under those leaves?"

Mario Kart Love Song

I'm starting to train for the summer swim season. It's been about two months since the winter season ended and the next season starts mid-May. I'm crazy out of shape--I've been running, and my quads are killing me. I have one of those heating pads in my lap as I type this. It doesn't help that I bruise like a peach and the kayaks in my Adventure Water Sports class have caused my hips and legs to become an odd bluish color.

I'm going to start with my PostSecret stories again. I'm currently trying to decide on one to write about. Any suggestions?


By the way, happy passover :)

white horse.

Say you're sorry
That face of an angel comes out
Just when you need it to
As I pace back and forth all this time
'Cause I honestly believed in you
Holding on,
The days drag on
Stupid girl
I should have known, I should have known

That I'm not a princess
This ain't a fairytale
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet
Lead her up the stairwell
This ain't Hollywood,
This is a small town
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Now its too late for you and your White Horse,
To come around.

Baby I was naíve,
Got lost in your eyes
I never really had a chance.
My mistake I didn't know to be in love you had to fight to have the upper hand.
I had so many dreams about you and me.
Happy endings
Now I know

I'm not a princess
This ain't a fairytale
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet
Lead her up the stairwell
This ain't Hollywood,
This is a small town
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Now its too late for you and your White Horse,
To come around.

And there you are on your knees
Begging for forgiveness,
Begging for me
Just like I always wanted,
But I'm so sorry

Cause I'm not your princess
This ain't our fairytale
I'm gonna find someone, someday
Who might actually treat me well.
This is a big world,
That was a small town
There in my rear view mirror,
Disappearing now.
And it's too late for you and your White Horse
Now its too late for you and your White Horse
To catch me now.

Oh whoa whoa whoa-oh
Try and catch me now
Oh
It's too late
To catch me now.

Single File show last night.

It was awesome. Wow. Best show I've been to in a long time.
Moriah and I showed up at about 5:45 because traffic sucked, and met up with Brittany. We hung out until the box office opened at about 6:40 and doors opened at 7.

Openers:
The Frequent Sea - Nerf from my favorite radio station's band. Ehh. I couldn't tell if I liked them because their singer was really ugly and kept putting his crotch in Brittany's face lol.
Set Forth - I really liked them, they have that awesome piano rock sound. Their set was thoroughly enjoyable and they sounded great live. There were some drunks right next to me during their set though, which was lame.
The Epilogues - The center mic wasn't quite loud enough I don't think, because I couldn't hear him or the lyrics all too well. Then again, they weren't quite as soft sounding as Set Forth, so maybe I didn't have the right expectations. But I liked them. There was a girl with big boobs and a low cut shirt, totally wasted, dancing nearby and I swore her boobs were about to pop out and we'd all be eyewitnesses.
Single File - Awesome. I danced until my feet hurt and was dizzy. The barricade fell over on me haha. Those boys always know how to make my night, I can't explain it. They sound amazing live and they're very personable on stage. It was just amazing.

Single File had a new bassist just to fill in the sound when they play shows, this guy named Jason. Jason's best friend from California was in the front with us, taking pictures. He was so drunk oh my goodness hahaha. He's talking about how he gets drunk faster here than in California becuase of the altitude haha. He also told me that Jason's jeans were given to him by his ex girlfriend Katie, and it's one of the three pairs he owns. I found that funny. He was such a funny guy and his face when he turned around to face the crowd was like that of a kid's on christmas morning. A photographer on the other side of him gave him a number for rehab lmao.

I made some cool new friends and discovered some cool new music. It was awesome.

bookstore.

Between the bookshelves, I stand in awe. Billions of words tucked quietly between covers of cardstock and cardboard press down on my heart. My blood runs warm through my veins, an adrenaline rush, filling me with a vitality brought about only by books. I flip through the pages of these books and take in the stories of people throughout history who may or may not have existed. These are stories of passionate lovers, admirable heroes, and greedy men. The tales differ in plot and style, from poetry to prose, but they all are similar in one way. They all reach out and grab me, tying me to them with a golden thread. A thread that appears to be thin and worthless but is unable to be broken. Brute force could not tear me away from the wonders that books behold. I am entranced, body and soul, by the simple words that fit together to create such a beautiful thing.

--
A little ditty I wrote at Barnes & Noble today, as I was emptying my wallet buying books.

as yet to be titled.

So let's drink tonight
A toast to being alone
Because nothing hurts more
Thank your voice on the radio
The black and grey static
That fills up the screen
Is my welcome solace
A barrier in between
Life is a set of train tracks
Separating east from west
Board the train before it goes
It's always for the best.

--
I've been trying to write one final poem inspired by/about John. Just to kind of wrap it all up and provide closure. Even though I've been over him, there just was no closure and I think this poem provides it. If you wouldn't tell, I was listening to Jack's Mannequin and moaning over how I could never write like Andrew McMahon and had given up trying to write something. Then I turned off my music and my lights to go to bed and bam! the first two lines of this entered my head and I just had to put it down on paper, and the rest followed. I think it's pretty obvious it was inspired by Jack's Mannequin but I tried not to make it TOO much like what Andrew would write, because although he's brilliant and I pale in comparison, I still want me to shine through. I really hope I was able to because I really like this.

Little house.

There is this house on my block that I always knew was there but didn't pay much attention to it. I was walking by it the other day and totally fell in love with it. It's not the prettiest house and it's in the middle of suburbia. It's really grown over with plants and there's a thick hedge in front of it. I've never seen anyone go in or out of that house, but I know people have to live there because of the fact that there's furniture inside. That part I noticed before. But the other day, I noticed there were some thick books in the window. Which caused me to think, hmm, what kind of person lives there? A lonely, heartbroken old poet? A doctor who discovered some kind of dangerous scientific secret? Or maybe a young boy, detatched from the world, hiding some kind of hideous deformity? Alright, so maybe I've read The Secret Garden way too many times. My imagination runs away with me sometimes. Anyway, so I'm walking past, thinking about who might live there, and I see this great stone arch at the side of the house leading into a backyard. There were gargoyles carved into the arch, and the yard beyond looked just as green and grassy as the front of the house. I didn't go any farther because I didn't want to trespass, but I think once the weather gets warm I'm going to get Lia and we're going to go look together, just to see what could possibly be back there. It's just fascinating, idk how to explain it. It's the inspiration for the novel I plan on starting to write soon...but I won't reveal the plot because I don't want you to steal it =D hopefully I can start once the weather gets warm. It's gonna be a good one.

Oh, and Kaela is talking to me again. I don't know if I am totally rejecting the whole prima donna thing now, because I think she still is, but I still love her all the same, even if things are a little awkward now. The fact that she was too lazy to respond to my apology message kind of ticks me off a little.

Anyway, night.

Things going through my head late one Sunday night.

Late nights. Facebook chats. Vodka and coke. Motion City Soundtrack. Weed. Checking behind the shower curtain before you pee late at night.
"But I just hate to say goodbye/To all the metaphors and lies/That have taken me years to come up with."
Really genuinely caring about someone.
"Our hell ends every weekend/But it's all I have to believe in."
Losing track of time, but we don't care.
More vodka and coke.
Slow down, partner.
I'm not drunk.
Increasing awareness of everything around me.
"Alright, is there anyone out there at all?"
I'm a wallflower -- can you feel it?
Alone but not so alone.
Making new friends.
"Let me in, let me in to the club, cuz I wanna belong."
Enjoying each other's company, that's what matters most.
Drinking alone, how sad. But not so sad. Maybe it's better that way.
Early morning ahead.
Goodnight.

kindness.

Every kind action, every pebble dropped into the sea, is capable of creating a tidal wave colossal enough to span every ocean in the world, traveling as fast as the mind can comprehend before it hits the shore with a soft splash. It's massive crest collapses into a foamy abyss as the water grows shallower and shallower. "Shhh," it sighs. It stretches its toes out towards the dry land, but the land pushes it away. It retreats silently, back to the deep waters that welcome it back to the depths of it's vulnerable, watery heart.

This is little tidbit is dedicated to the woman at Starbucks who cared enough to strike up a conversation and asked if 2% milk was okay. I only wish I had taken the time from my busy lifestyle to learn her name.


--
I've been trying to write this ever since it happened on Wednesday. I wasn't quite sure how to put it in words, and like usual, it came to me a few days after the fact. But yeah, I'm happy with this. I really am. Mostly though, I'm happy that I wrote it. Writing a bit of prose/poetry/whatever you want to call it about the woman who made my macchiato when I ditched gym on Wednesday is either extremely pathetic or absolutely genius. I'm hoping it leans towards the latter. There are very few people so kind out there these days, even if all she did was strike up a conversation and ask me how I wanted my coffee. The simplicity of it caught me off guard. I may have to ditch class again sometime just to go get coffee and see her.

Lia and I went to see The Haunting In Connecticut this evening. It was really good, I reccomend you see it. It was jumpy and I got kind of freaked out, but I still found it fascinating. The whole Jonah thing, and Matt being a medium...wow. I totally just spoiled it. But anyway, I was impressed.
Laterrr

prima donna.

I'm not in a happy place right now. Kaela and I are fighting. Well, actually, she's fighting, I'm being a submissive pacifist and kissing her ass in hopes she'll forgive me. It's not working. Plans for tonight fell through, I need to get out of this house.

On a better note, we've had a blizzard these past two days. A big one. It's resulted in my spring break starting a few days early, only I've done basically nothing because nobody is around.

You're always counted on to strike the iron while it's hot. Show off your burn and run from the paramedics, nobody minds. I didn't. The makeup may create a pretty face but you're the prima donna of us all. The boys will break their necks to pull the curtains for you but you're never there. You're pushing your car closer to the edge of a cliff, leaving it for dead. Breaking hearts and twisting smiles, that's what you do best.

So The Academy Is... is in my city right now.

And I'm not there. Sadface. Okay, technically, just Sisky and William, but whatever. They played down in Colorado Springs last night. Brittany called me during Rumored Nights and I basically died. It was wonderful. Oh, and William also dedicated Down and Out to her. By name. I'm so totally jealous you don't even know. That's arguably my favorite song by them, ever.

I'm also being kicked in the ass by this history essay. Hard. I had to write a freewrite, which is basically me just talking to myself on paper about my topic (whaaat? My teacher is weird.). It's supposed to be about a page and a half double spaced. Mine ended up being 3 1/2 pages long. I've shortened it to about 3 pages. I have no idea how to make it shorter. fmlfmlfml

My life is like a spiral staircase
Twisting higher than I can see
Flat planes and narrow lines intersect
A geometric masterpiece only I can climb
I fly up the staircase
My footsteps a steady pulse
I am so urgent in reaching the sky
That when I finally behold the brilliant blue dome
I am too exhausted to care.

I wrote that earlier...I'm kind of blehh about the ending, I think it could use more, but I decided to keep it that way anyway. We've started reading The Catcher In The Rye in English, and I guess Holden's personality has kind of rubbed off on me. I don't want to change the original draft because then it would not be honest and raw, and it would be "phony." I may end up changing it later when this mindset wears off. But for now we'll see how it goes.

Regretting?

Oh, and about my wish at the Vistas, whether I'd regret liking him or not.

No, I still don't regret liking him. There is no hard feelings nor do I want to go under my covers and cry. I regret letting what he did to me happen, but I don't think it's his fault. He's a good guy deep down, but he makes a lot of mistakes and just isn't the type of person I want to be with.

Just clearing it up. Not for anyone who reads my stupid emo rants about my personal life on here, but mostly for myself. I need to think things through by putting it in words sometimes, and blogging is the easiest way to do it, hence my long, emo rants.

I am not in love, this is not my heart...

Alright well I think I'm finally done with John. After a million relapses, I think I finally came to my senses. He's nice and everything but definitely not the type of person I'd like to be with. I'm done with torturing myself and all that crap. From here on, there's no more sadface.

I have a couple more interests, but for the time being they're nothing more than that--interests. I'm cool with that. In fact, I like it better than being dragged down by one boy who isn't even worth my time. :) Sure I liked John a lot but he has made me into someone who I don't want to be. He drained out the free spirit in me and now that I'm over him I feel totally rejuvenated, as cheesy as that sounds.

I'm not gonna waste these words about a boy.

Oh, I'm ready for it. Come on, bring it.

Today was a gooood day.
Kanye West. Subarus. Punch bug. The Catcher In The Rye. Wonderwall. Gargoyles, monkeys, and squirrels. Lauren. CSI. Cake. Beer. Fire.


Yes, I did indeed bake a cake that turned out pretty damn good, thank you very much. I'm not a total failure at anything domestic.
...I did, however, burn myself trying to take it out of the oven.
It's another Friday night wasted on facebook. However, Most Haunted is on in six minutes, and they're investigating the S.S. Great Britain. I'm excited, as usual. I love that show.


I tried writing another poem but it kind of didn't work. I'll sleep on it.
Laterrr

Pinwheel.

Life goes by like the turn of a pinwheel planted firmly at the foot of an ancient, crumbling tombstone. It's bright blades spin around and around; a fuchsia blur that twirls surely, despite it's weather-beaten limbs. The grass grows high and surrounds it, menacing. But the rain-rusted and sun-crisped pinwheel does not falter. The tiny pink rose of vitality, a tribute to a life lost and forgotten, spins on and on, whispering in the wind, "I'm here! I'm here!"

--

The first thing I've written in about a week. I'm very happy with it.
It was written to be read softly, with the words in quotes just a breathy whisper. But most people don't read that way. I'm not quite sure where I was trying to go with it, like a majority of what I write. It started out as a life-is-short kind of thing, but it ended up as a make-your-mark kind of thing with some life-is-short mixed in. But anyway, I'm pretty happy with this. It's short, like a lot of things I tend to write.

Life is good. :)

One year.

It's been one year since the death of my grandpa. Leading up to this day, I thought I'd be a complete mess on this anniversary. But today was, well, the complete opposite. I felt really happy today, and I think it was because of my grandpa. He inspired me to make my life count and to enjoy the ride, and today was really one of those kinds of great days. The only issue I had was that it was a little cold and a little cloudy. The sky wasn't blue and clear like it was yesterday, and as you'll read on, you'll understand the significance of that. Hopefully though, tomorrow will be just as beautiful. Hopefully, it will be as beautiful as his life was.

Here is an entry from my old blog, written two weeks after his death. I'll repost it here.




My grandfather died, two weeks ago tomorrow, at 8:45 AM.
He was sick for a long time, and we knew it would happen. I knew the second I saw my parents what had happened. But it was still hard, it still is. I didn't bawl nonstop for days, I still cry a little every other day, occasionally more than once a day.

The funeral was hard, it was all I could do to not jump up and run out of the room during the service. But the small service at the cemetery was the worst part.

The worst part was watching the two air force officers folding the flag that was over his casket and giving it to my grandma. That was probably the hardest thing for me to watch, ever. At first, I didn't understand what they were doing. But when the officer knelt down in front of my grandma and handing the flag to her, in a moment of utter silence...it was absolutely unbearable. I had seen that being done in movies, at the funerals of the young and brave killed at war. I had never actually experienced that. My grandpa was not young or killed at war, but it was brave. He served in the United States Air Force during the Korean War.

It also hurt having to leave, because the service was at a memorial thing in the cemetery and I never got to see him buried. As I was leaving, the hearse drove away and my grandpa's casket getting put into an ugly white truck-like thing to take him to the grave site. That hurt so much, he deserved better than to be taken to his grave in an ugly white truck that didn't even look like anything but some white metal sheets on wheels.

My grandpa was a strong hearted man, a bit strict and stubborn at times, a man with a sense of humor and a knack for making friends. He was dedicated to everything he did. He had such a strong will to live, he held on for as long as he could. My mother said he held on for one of his sisters, who was driving to town from Nebraska. His other sister was with him when he died, my mom says that he had mistaken her for his sister from Nebraska and decided to finally let go. He died on a Tuesday, and I saw him the Sunday before. The last words I ever said to him was, "I'll see you later, Grandpa." The next time I saw him he was in a casket.

People say that there is a lot of him that lives on in me. And I'm clinging to that like it's a piece of driftwood keeping me from drowning.

I will always remember is the sound of his laugh. The way the sky looked, all big and blue, the day he died. Even though the weathermen had predicted snow and had been for weeks, spring suddenly came the day that my grandpa left this world. And I firmly believe that he was the one who made the sky like that.

Rest in peace, Grandpa. I love you.

In sweet ecstasy while the ages roll
Will you meet in Heaven someday?

Fuckkk

I like him again.
I never know how much I'll miss him until he's gone.

John ran away from home again. Actually, he claims he was kicked out, but I don't think that's the case because it wasn't the last time. The last time being back in November, when I first realized that I like him. After we had a long conversation about it. I found out about it at Writing Club today from William. I come in and ask where John is. William says that John was "gone." I'm like, wtf does that mean? I tell Ksenia. She calls Lauren, goes to her friend Saul's, and John is there. Ksenia calls me to tell me. He's living there and just didn't come to school because he's lazy, but he'll be at school tomorrow.

Geez, I can't believe I like him again. This is so frustrating, especially now that I went through a completely independent period. I thought I was done with this whole thing.


I had an idea for a poem. I never got around to writing it.

pictures of you.

So I've had tremendous writers block these past few days. It's killing me. I try to write something and it starts out decent, but then it quickly spirals into crap. I'm thinking it's because I'm stressed. I've been so busy this week, I have a ton of makeup work from a few weeks ago left, and I have a huge History essay due at the end of April.

Argh. Some new inspiration this week, maybe? I hope so.

q&a

I was bored, so let's watch me ask myself questions!

Q&A

Q: What are you thinking about right now?
A: I wish there was some sort of coffee shop within walking distance of my house where I can be all hipster and write. As amazing as My Favorite Muffin is, it just won't do. I can't be hipster in a muffin shop.

Q: Why do you obsess over Edgar Allen Poe?
A: I don't really know, I guess it has something to do with my love for grim, disturbed things. All of Poe's work, even his love poems, has that quality to it. I can't really explain it, it's just awesome. I've always aspired to write like him.

Q: Qdoba or Chipotle?
A: Chipotle all the way, even though I can barely afford it.

Q: Myspace or facebook?
A: I used to perfer facebook, but because of this ridiculous layout change, I perfer myspace now.

Q: Do you have a crush on any authors?
A: I dig Jack Keroac. He'd be a cool guy to date. Though the fact that he had three wives before he died must say something about him.

Q: What is your favorite fruit?
A: Lately I haven't been able to get enough of anything pomegranate. So probably that. And raspberries.

Q: Have you ever kissed a girl and liked it?
A: I've never kissed a girl, but I'll let you know if I like it or not if I ever do.

Q: Did you ever believe boys have cooties?
A: I still do.

Q: What bands do you listen to?
A: A lot. My favorite hands down would be The Academy Is...; Tegan & Sara, The Beatles, Butch Walker, Bob Dylan, and Jack's Mannequin are runners up. I also love local music--I strongly suggest you check out Single File, Kill Paradise, Saving Verona, and The Chain Gang of 1974.

Also, someone please explain to me how to put a period after "The Academy Is..."(.) Do you just add it on to the end of the three periods, or do you just leave it at the three periods? I spent a good five minutes trying to figure this out before finally settling on a semicolon.

Q: Ever had a drunken night in Mexico?
A: It's on my to-do list.

Q: Which is your dominant hand?
A: I've got that lefty curse (where everything I do is flipped and awkwardly reversed)

Q: Doing anything over Spring Break?
A: Babysitting. Going to the mountains. That's basically it, as far as I know.

Q: You're always making Harry Potter references. Who's your favorite character?
A: Well, I have two...Fred & George. I love them.

Q: What's in your CD player right now?
A: Forever The Sickest Kids' Underdog Alma Mater never leaves my CD player.

Q: What do you think of 2009 so far?
A: So far it's been kind of ehhh. So far I've gotten epically sick twice (and I used to never get sick), and all the energy I have has been completely drained out of me. I hope things pick up because I'm tired of it all being blah. But I think it will. :)

Ain't a thing

So yeah, it's kind of cold.
My little widget says it's only 44 degrees, which is bull, because if it was really that warm I'd be sunbathing right now.

The euphoric single-ness thing failed. Of course it did. But whatever. I blame Tyler Hilton, the king of love songs in my opinion, for killing the optimistic mood. He's so adorable though.

rawr.

Ksenia had a hookah party today when her mom wasn't home. I went and smoked some hookah for the first time. It was really cool and I like it.

I think I'm finally getting over John. Not totally, but I think I'm crushing on him much less. I knew we wouldn't be totally compatible, but I think it finally settled in. At the hookah party today he was all over Ksenia, which made me kind of sad (even though I'm happy for her), which is why I think I still like him, but something just told me that we were better off as friends. It may have just been the hookah, because even though it doesn't give you a high, it gives you a bit of a buzz. So idk. But even now, four hours later, I feel the same. It sunk in a lot at the party.

Sure it makes life even more boring not liking anyone, but it also gives me a feeling of independance that I really like and haven't felt in a long time. Like I don't need a boy to keep me happy and inspired. John and I were never exactly on the same wavelength, so it's not like I'm missing much. Actually, it's almost for the better. A few weeks ago, I went to the mall with Claire and we were out at the Vistas. It was nighttime and the sky was clear and beautiful. We threw pebbles into the stream. I'm going to tell you my wish, hopefully I won't jinx it (knock on wood) but I wished that I wouldn't regret liking John. And so there it is, I don't regret it. No hard feelings. No heartbreak whatsoever. I still reguard him highly and he's still a good friend. It was special while it lasted and now it's finally relieving me of its burden, not that John was ever a burden. But you get what I mean. At the moment I'm happy with a friendship and that's good enough for me.

So yeah, there's my optimistic thought for the day. Haha. Wait until it all comes crashing down when I see Claire and Corey together--now that's a couple that makes me feel so incredibly single.

The Man In The Blue Suit

I feel like I'm sixteen years old and stuck in the Department of Motor Vehicles for four hours before failing my driving test. Indeed, this place is that kind of hell. Only I'm not sixteen, but nearing thirty and pressed up against the back wall of the unemployment office, soaked from the rain and extremely uncomfortable.
The place is crowded, thanks to our failing economy--each chair is filled people whose large, beady eyes reflect disappointment and worry. Their depression is like a disease, and after a while I feel my eyes grow heavy. I wonder if they see me as sad and lonely too.
The rain drops down like bullets outside of the huge glass windows. On any sunny weekday, as the corporate crowd takes their lunch and strolls down the street, they peek through these windows with nervous glances. You know the reason why they quickly look away with a flush is not because they believe it's rude to stare.
I slide down onto the floor amidst my wet jacket, my back against the wall as I wait for my number to be called. Head back, chin up, eyes closed. Breathe. Again.
"I am relaxed," I mutter mid-breath. This has become my mantra of late. Ever since my boss decided to lay me off, regardless of how many buttons on my blouse I had dropped at his command, thinking it secured my job. So wrong. Shit. I'm getting stressed again. Inhale. Exhale. "I am relaxed."
"You don't look very relaxed, if you ask me," a voice chuckles. My eyes fly open as I glare up at the stranger who interrupted my meditation.
"Well I am," I say curtly and lean my head back again. Lie.
"You must be really good at that meditation stuff then, because it's near impossible to relax in this place. That woman with the screaming baby--God, the kid's giving me a headache." I'm about to say something smart and go back to my breathing, but I give up because I know the guy will interrupt again and it was kind of a wasted effort anyway. The guy sits down next to me. I notice he's about my age and much drier than I am; his navy suit and loosened tie seem freshly dry cleaned. He's a good looking guy, but something is wrong about him. No, not wrong--just different from everyone else in the room. There's some odd vivacity in his demeanor that is ironic for someone filing for unemployment. The punchline of some untold joke plays behind his lips.
"I thought I was the only one bothered by that," I answer after a prolonged pause.
"Nope, I can tell everyone else here is too, but they're biting their tongue. Madea over there is debating on whether she should say something," he winks at the masculine-looking black woman with glasses sitting behind the counter. Sure enough, behind the glaze over her eyeballs, there's some kind of muted irritation. I chuckle at her expression and turn back to the stranger. He's sitting closer to me than I had realized, and my heart picks up speed. I bite my lip before I continue.
"I bet you're right."
"Now that lady over there," he says and points to a nervous looking woman wearing large, gaudy earrings in the shape of an umbrella and a drop of rain. "Ex-elementary school teacher. Emotional wreck. Enochlophobic."
"How do you know?"
"Look at the way her eyes dart around. See her hands--the palms are sweaty. And her outfit, well, that speaks for itself," he says with a low chuckle that takes me by surprise.
"You read people very well," I remark. He laughs again.
"Yeah, I guess I do. People can pretend to be anything they want. A lot of people pretend to be happy, confident, or successful. More than you'd expect. I just see them for who they really are." He gives me this look as if he's studying me. I feel naked, vulnerable in the presence of someone who can see through any front. His face suddenly breaks into a huge smile that lit up the entire room. He stands up and shakes out his slacks.
"See ya," he says without warning, and strides away. I stare after him, dumbstruck, and head over heels in love with this stranger.

--

So I started this last night and finished it a few minutes ago. I know it's kind of a weird setting for a romance, but I figured it was very relevant and had potential to be cute. I have no idea if I succeeded. The dialogue was kind of tough to write, I didn't want it to be too long and I wanted to capture the instant chemistry between the stranger and our protagonist, because if there's no chemistry there's no story. The whole idea of instant love has been something I thought about since I listened to James Blunt's song, "You're Beautiful." The song is crap, but the lyrics always intrigued me.

My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the subway.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got a plan.

Basically, James Blunt is high and on a subway, sees this chick and falls in love. I think it's just the pot. I'm pretty sure it's not possible to fall in love with someone at one glance. But that's what this short story revolves around--instantly falling in love with a person after a short conversation. As much as I think it's impossible, it's still sweet.

I AM SO ADDICTED TO THIS GAME.

Trippy Ski Runner

The object of the game is to get as many pills as possible without hitting the trees, rocks, or random ancient ruins (no idea why they're there.) The trick is, if you get enough pills, it goes into major trippy mode and there are flashing colors and random stuff flying everywhere...that won't kill you, but it makes it difficult to see the rocks and trees.
It's so much fun, give it a go. :)

Burn.

The glowing speck of ember falls to the floor. I step on it to put it out, and it scorches the sole of my bare foot. The incense -- a seductive rose -- burns a brilliant orange before crumbling away like ash. Touch it, it burns. The most extraordinary sensation of living. Most find it an unpleasant feeling, but to me, it is revitalizing. Love and sorrow cloud the perception of senses, but the privilege of pain, baking flesh within a thousand roman candles, is the closest one can get to life.

--
I've been killing myself by not writing every day, which has subsequently put me in a massive stroke of writer's block. Finally, I wrote this short piece a few minutes ago, surrounded by lots of candles and incense. You can sense the personality of a writer just by observing their style. I've noticed I've written a lot about fire, which I guess means I'm a closet masochist/pyrotechnic. Haha. But I really like the idea that I captured in this -- about pain being the essence of life. I think I'm going to expand on it more. It was basically inspired by something Criss Angel said in an episode long ago, I can't find the actual quote online. It kind of stuck with me.

So yeah, there you go. Enjoy!

I've been home sick with walking pneumonia for two days. Luckily, I'm on antibiotics now so I should be okay to go to school tomorrow...hopefully.

Someone showed me this video a few days ago...I think it's really cool.

I'm so in love with this song.

I love Taylor Swift's music/lyrics ohmygoodness. Fearless is totally the album of my life right now. Kind of wish I was still 15, but I'm not THAT much older, so it still applies. :)


Fifteen

You take a deep breath and you walk through the doors
It's the morning of your very first day
You say hi to your friends you ain't seen in a while
Try and stay out of everybody's way
It's your freshman year and you're gonna be here
For the next four years in this town
Hoping one of those senior boys will wink at you and say
You know I haven't seen you around, before

(Chorus)
'Cause when you're fifteen and
Somebody tells you they love you
You're gonna believe them
And when you're fifteen feeling like
There's nothing to figure out
But count to ten, take it in
This is life before you know
Who you're gonna be
Fifteen

You sit in a class next to a redheaded Abigail
And soon enough you're best friends
Laughing at the others girls
Who think they're so cool
We'll be out of here as soon as we can
And then you're on you're very first date
And he's got a car and you're feeling like flying
And you're mamma's waiting up and you're thinking he's the one
And you're dancing 'round your room when the night ends
When the night ends

(Chorus)
'Cause when you're fifteen and
Somebody tells you they love you
You're gonna believe them
When you're fifteen and your first kiss
Makes you head spin 'round but
In your life you'll do things greater
Than dating the boy on the football team
But I didn't know it at fifteen

When all you wanted
Was to be wanted
Wish you could go back
And tell yourself what you know now

Back then I swore I was gonna
Marry him someday
But I realized some bigger dreams of mine
And Abigail gave everything she had to a boy
Who changed his mind
And we both cried

(Chorus)
'Cause when you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love you
You're gonna believe them
And when you're fifteen, don't forget to look before you fall
I've found time can heal most anything
And you just might find who you're supposed to be
I didn't know who I was supposed to be
At fifteen

la la la la la...la la la la la...la la la la la

Your very first day
Take a deep breath girl
Take a deep breath as you walk through the doors

OMG!

So everybody knows about my obsession with Johnny Depp and all of his splendid glory. That's no surprise.
Next year he's going to be releasing a new movie with Tim Burton, a live-action version of Alice in Wonderland. Depp is playing the Mad Hatter.

So in November a picture of Depp in costume was released. He's scary as hell, that's for sure, but I can't help but feel uber excited and the need to throw myself upon him asap. I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS MOVIE! March 5th 2010<3

Happy March

So Rush was last night/this morning. Holy shit so much fun but I'm so sore.

First, the high school youth groupers went around and kidnapped the 8th graders at their houses. I went with David and Mama C (David's mother -- she's so rad) to kidnap three girls. We rocked to Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and Motion City Soundtrack, among others.

After, we went to Xtreme Challenge, which is this American Gladiators place. It was crazyyy fun but painful. Talia and I were human wrecking balls haha it was great. Then we went back to temple for Havdallah which was amazing as usual. After we played laptag and watched Zoolander. Finally, this morning we decided to go to bed and slept on the floor for a few hours. I'm so crazy sore.

As tired as I am, I feel like this week is going to be a really good one. I really hope it is. It's the first week of March, which means spring is almost here. It better not snow anytime soon....

oh yeah, I forgot to post this.

No guest presentation, and not a full trailer, but it's something...

right here, right now.

Jamming to the High School Musical soundtrack and thinking about boys. :)

Boys, boys, boys, can't live with them and can't live without them.

I was thinking earlier about whether I'd be happier in a relationship or single. Of course, at this point in time I can't really say, but I think both. I'm happy single and I love to flirt, but I think if I met the right person I think I'd be very content with the stability. Of course, I have not met said person yet, so...I have no clue.

That was my deep thought of the day, even though it wasn't that deep. Trust me, I'm not shallow.

Still sick as a dog.
Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday.
The Great Gatsby is wonderful.
Scrubs is on in 10 minutes.
Laundry needs to be done.
Tylenol PM calls my name.
I need to write something because I haven't in days.
I wish he'd call me.
He wont.
Goodnight.

Blarrr

Went home from school early today because I was feeling sick.
Wasted some time on facebook.
Watched the Phantom of the Opera and crashed for four hours.
Meh I still don't feel very good.

We'll see how I feel later. I don't want to miss more school but I kind of do. I don't want loads of makeup work, but I don't want to knock myself out and get sicker, especially with rush coming up this weekend, and I have to babysit Maya and Kylie tomorrow night. I guess I should go do my homework just in case I do go to school tomorrow.

By the way, my English teacher liked my color analysis paper. She talked about it in class and how she liked a lot of the points it had brought up. She didn't say it was mine, but she looked in my direction and talked about what I wrote, so...needless to say, I was quite happy.

Anyway, enough with my procrastination tactics. Gonna make some tea and read more of The Great Gatsby.

I said I wasn't gonna lose my head

and then
POP!
goes my heart.

when I'm with him I'm thinking of you.

I'm failing History.
By failing, I mean I have a 40%.
You wonder how it got so low, well, humans mess up. But I'm working epically hard to get it up.
This means that I can't get any more driving hours NOR go to see TAI... on their acoustic tour NOR go to Camp Rainbow, unless it gets to be a C in the next month. Meh. We'll see.

School is fucking stressful. I'm not a bad student or anything, not usually, but I mess up sometimes and get so incredibly frustrated that it takes forever to get back on track.

And the John situation isn't helping either. I still like him like crazy. Today at Writing Club we went outside to write instead of staying inside, and oh my goodness he looks so nice in the sun. He reminded me of Edward Cullen. Jeans, white button up shirt, messy light brown hair...the ironic thing is, I always thought he looked like Edward back Freshman year lol. He looked absolutely beautiful and I relapsed like I knew I would.

This getting over him thing? Not working out.

God, I'm such a creep when I talk about him.

By the way, we're reading The Great Gatsby in English now. I LOVE IT! It's one of my favorite books that I've ever read in English class, EVER. It's near surpassing Lord of the Flies. I think I just really like color imagery...both books have it. It's intriguing. Like, (warning: spoiler!) I'm on chapter 5 now. Cream has always been associated with Gatsby because of the fact that he's New Money and subsequently not the most fashionable. He thinks Daisy left him and married Tom because he wasn't Old Money. Obviously we know that this is false. So when Nick invites Daisy over for tea and Gatsby happens by at precisely the right time, and he's wearing WHITE, I'm like NOOOOOOO! Don't try to be someone you're not for her. This is because white symbolizes Old Money, and obviously Gatsby isn't. Gahh if he and Daisy don't get together I'll be very upset.

There was my English geek-out for the day.
Adios.

one more weekend.

It's that feeling you get on Sunday afternoons, when you've partied until you've dropped and then realized how much homework still needs to be done.
Sleep sounds wonderful.
If my homework did itself that would be great as well.
Unfortunately, that's not going to happen.

There is a possibility that the Public Enemies trailer will be shown at the Oscars tonight. There are rumors of it only being a 10 second clip, so it should be online pretty fast.
Oh, and there are also rumors of Johnny Depp being a guest presenter. Who knows? If he is I'll probably go reeeally fangirl.

Busy week ahead.

Through the camera lens

A/N: I wrote this last night. Part of me really likes it, part of me doesn't. My usual indecisiveness.



I.
Though the camera lens,
Our hero and heroine recline into each others bodies
A fireside picnic; dinner for two.
He tries to get into her sweater,
But she pushes him away.

II.
Through the camera lens,
Our hero calls to say he'll be home late.
"Don't wait up," he says.
But our heroine can't sleep.
She stares silently at the cold side of the bed
Unable to force her eyes shut from fact and reason.

III.
Through the camera lens,
Our heroine goes to church every Sunday
The church where she married our hero,
And the church that keeps them eternally bound,
Till death do they part.

IV.
Through the camera lens,
Our hero takes the bus to a seedier part of town
His watch weighs heavy on his wrist.
He has a girl who is stripping on Colfax
And a woman who is lonely in the suburbs.

V.
Through the camera lens,
Our heroine watches the clock
It weighs heavy on the wall.
The minutes, seconds tick by
As life grows slowly shorter.

VI.
Through the camera lens,
Our hero meets his girl.
He has his fix.
He slips quietly out the door.

VII.
Through the camera lens,
Our heroine holds her husband's gun to her temple.
Verses from Corinthians run through her head
And she prays to God for forgiveness of her sins.

IIX.
Through the camera lens,
Our hero returns home.
He hangs up his coat and keys.

IX.
Through the camera lens,
Nothing.

More body talk.

Note: I'll probably post more of this later, as it gets posted, because I think it's something all girls need to read. But here's what's been posted up to now, excluding what I posted last night. :)
Also, the grammatical and spelling errors made in these comments were not done by me...I just copied and pasted.

Emily: Wendy, Wendy, Wendy and of all my other beautiful Creek girls!
Stop feeling this pressure to be prettier/skinner/better. One of the biggest things I've learned in college, becoming an actor and finding out who I truly am is that I AM ENOUGH. My weight, my eyes, my hair, my teeth, my nose, my legs, my butt all make me ME. I understand the hype about boys in high school wanting us/you to be better looking. What the hell is better looking anyway? I say stop the negativity and trying to define yourself as "better" when "better" is a matter of opinion. Girls, there are too many important things in life to be worried about what you look like. Besides, I am in one the most looks-conscious professions, and I've been told that although I'm a "product," it's more about how I feel. Stop worrying about what you look like, and start embracing how you feel. You are enough! You are the most powerful women of this time. Educate yourselves, and all of the "flaws" you overanalyze will dissolve.
One more thing. Love the you you are, and you'll find a guy (or a girl) that will love you just as much. It happened for me, I guarentee it will happen for you.
Jack: i think girls should honestly not worry about their weight, wen i see girls that go to worlds end to be skinny its a turn off because 1) humans are naturally attracted to curves and 2) it brings to light the fact that they have low self esteem and i find confident, intelligent girls more attractive than fake girls who can achieve model figure. as for teeth, on a professional standpoint i think everybody should have braces just so they wont feel held back to smile. plastic surgury defidently isnt necessary unless someone comes out of a car crash or something. in the end, the most attractive girl in my mind is somebody who is smart and funny that i can have a good conversation with
thank you wendy this was very impacting as to wat kids at creek go through to achieve acceptance of their peers. this kind of emotional expression is good for humans
Mary: That it does not matter how any one looks on the outside only on the inside. i mean i have small boobs, but i really dont want bigger ones. i have a few teeth that are not straight but im ok with that. however it is hard with weight with all the "pretty" girls we go to school with. if im looking for a guy its not how they look at all its how they treat people and what their personality is like. even if the hottist guy asked me out if he was a jerk i would say no. i really like that you shared that i think that it is really important that we don't get cought up in superficial things.
Sara:
Okay, so, when I was in the eighth grade, I was incredibly thin. I was the same height I am now, but I only weighed 82 pounds...which means I was roughly 20 pounds less than I was supposed to be at to be "healthy" - according to, I dunno, society or whatever. I never really thought about it as an issue, though, because I had always just been like that. But by eighth grade, of course, a lot of the girls were starting to get curves. And here I was, still this stick to them. And people started calling me anorexic, and making comments about how I had no waist, or no hips, or no butt, or no boobs.
And so now something I had never considered to even be IMPORTANT before suddenly became something that was tearing me apart. I was unbelievably aware of my body, and found myself wondering what everyone was thinking about my appearance. And now I was thinking far too much about my own appearance because I was so conscious of what all the other people thought. So here I was saying to myself, “how come I’m not built the way she is?”, and “how come my skin isn’t as clear as hers?” and it was endless. I so I got consumed with that, and I wanted those curves already like everyone thought I needed to have. I started trying to gain weight. I just wanted to be what people thought I SHOULD be. And I literally started making myself sick trying to put on those pounds.

But it wasn’t making ME happy. Clearly! I mean, making yourself get sick trying to be a portrayal of something you’re not even sure you want? That wouldn’t make anyone happy. And anyway, God definitely didn’t want me hurting myself like that – not when He already had a perfect image for me in mind. I’d get there. He’d see to that.

So I let go of that obsession. I entered high school and appearance was important to a lot of people – and it was still a factor for me, there’s no denying that – but it was not NEARLY as important as all the things I let myself be involved it. I got my passion together, and I delved into music and writing and clubs, and surrounded myself with people who were more interest in who I WAS rather than what I was, aesthetically.

And I found me. I found who I was. And it had nothing to do with what I looked like. And it had EVERYTHING to do with the person, the personality – the stuff that made me ME.

Now in college, I know exactly who I am, and who I want to be. I am everything I’m supposed to be. I’m everything I NEED to be. I’m enough!

It took me a while to get there, but now that I am, it sort of feels like all the crap I had to go through to get to this place made me better:)
Here’s something that was amazing for this: Last week in my philosophy class, we were discussing this topic. And we were talking about how we know what we are. The topic of mirrors came up. My professor said the most profound thing.

He said this: “I look around, and I see so much talent and promise. Remember this. You are more than a reflection in a mirror. You are BIGGER than your body.”
Patrick: I personally think plastic sugery is stupid, and breast sizes shouldn't ever be changed... of course it's attractive for a girl to at least have boobs, but i also think they can be too big. but more than that, any girl who is so insecure about her appearance that she would go change her boob size has more problems that just her "small boobs"

honestly i could like someone who was a bit chubby, but someone who was "fat" i dunno... as for me, i couldn't stand myself being fat
I suppose this is really bad to hear from a man, but i'll admit that i do often eat very, very little to keep myself from feeling fat. For me it's more like i go through stages where i eat absolutely nothing for as long as i can take it and then eat as much as i need to keep myself alive and run that process for a few weeks. It seems like i do this because i really don't wwnat to gain weight. I'm underweight as is, but something about gainging anymore weight makes me feel like a failure.

for me the most important physical trait is the eyes, i feel like you can learn more from someones eyes in a minute than you can from their words in a month.
and sometimes they're just beautiful to look at.
Hair is something i take a small amount of time on personally, but for the girls who may spend tuns of time trying to fix their hair... it isn't necessary. sure maybe you'll look a little cuter that day or something but you're not gonna be ugly because you didn't straighten your hair.
i also believe that whatever is natural is the best, because that shows the girl is confident with who SHE is and won't put soo much time and energy in to becoming someone she really isn't.

I also admit that i am first attracted to someone by almost strictly physical means. if i get to know them and they're cool that's when i start getting attracted to the personality. The personality traits i really like are intelligence, spontaneity, someone who can hold an interesting and stimulating conversation, but who can also have have fun with me doing stuff we both enjoy. and musicians automatically add about % points to the personality stuff.
Lauryn: Hey Wendy! I didnt get a chance 2 read ALL the comments but I just wanna say, you are a REALLY good writer!! truely it is amazing how you can write in a way that relates to everyone! Not just girls! I wated to add something to the whole locker room thing and swimming. So I have noticed girls changing behind towles, going into stalls, afraid of the other girls on the team to see them naked. I tink its sad. I was always told "if u see something u havent seen before shoot it." I mean what are they hiding?/ THeir but? Their boobs?? I mean WE ALL have that! I hope this does not sound odd.... I mean its just weird. In the play girls are flaunting everythingin the dressing room! Maybe its because theater kids are weird and can be them selves, but I mean SWIMMERS!! Come on!! we are all wearing swim suits and have hairy legs. Now I am all for the whole modesty thing. Believe me! But girls (and maybe guys idk if this applies to them) should not try to hide who they are especially amungst other members of the same gender. And there TEAM MATES! Wendy u know I am a christian and in the Bible God created Adam and Eve and they were NAKED!!! God ment for us to be at ease with our bodies. When the whole fruit thing happned Adam and Eve hid because they realized they were naked. I hope this is making some sence..... Now I am NOT saying get rid of clothes, lets all become nudist. But as a team, as friends, as fellow girls we should not be afraid to change in front of our friends in the locker room. Did that make any sence @ all?? let me know if I did...
Laurel: Well...I have small boobs and am very proud of them lol seriously being a dancer I wouldn't want it either way. If a boy is going to be egotistical enough to center his attractions around breats then he needs a body smack. I never wear make up. I hate it. My friends always tell me to wear it cuz I look pretty but that frustrates me soooo much cuz I don't feel like I'm laurel with my face painted up like a clown. As a dancer, I spend my whole day looking at my reflection trying to perfect my body positions how I stand where my placement is...etc. What I have acknowledged is that sometimes the awkward movement looks the best and makes you feel more human. Sometimes ugly is the more visually accepting. Does that make sense?
Lauryn: Well Wendy I think its true... I wear make up. I think its because I like to bring out my eyes. I know I look fine without it on, yet I LOVE mascara... I think I like make up because I only discovered it like a year ago. But I can see what Laurel means about not feeling like her self in make up. And what you say about putting on a mask and where beauty fits into society... It kinda makes me feel guilty about wearing it. And now I am totaly changing the subject. I am gonna comment about your rant on what physically do you look for. For me its eyes, same as you. Eyes tell everything, kinda, the sort-of insight to the soul. You can tell alot about a person just by reading into their eyes.

Body talk.

My friend Wendy made a note on facebook talking about the stereotypes placed on women and standards of beauty. It's a fairly long note, so I'm not going to copy-and-paste it here. But there have been so many comments on it, and it's really an amazing thing to read. There are a lot of girls expressing their insecurities about their bodies, and there are a lot of boys who are expressing how they really feel about the stereotypical "beautiful" woman. I'm going to post some of them here. The conversation is still going on, but this is just what was there at the time of this posting.

It was a really great thing to read and contribute to, so I figured I'd blog about it so maybe someone else can be affected by it. It was so nice to hear guys' opinions on it.

Ali: The guy friends i've talked to think more than a handful of boob in too much. honestly i think that's mostly a stereotype that guys love enormous boobs.
as far as being skinny, i'm pretty damn skinny but i still feel the pressure to be smaller and more toned and healthy because all my close girls have amazing bodies and mine is the biggest, even if only by a little.
overall, i think natural beauty is the most amazing. but to really own natural beauty requires natural confidence and I think that's where most people suffer. but truly, natural hair texture and color, minimal make-up, no fake anything. I am religious, but I think you're made who you are because that's the way you were meant to be. nothing wrong with trying to enhance a few things (no one's perfect) but changing this always looks wrong.
and i guess the last thing i want to say is you are always your toughest critic and you'll always find a flaw that could be fixed, no matter how small. and you'll focus on it until you fix it and find a new flaw to hate. it's just the way life will always be. the trick is to keep that worry and self-consciousness as much at bay as possible.
Andrew: Ok, first man comment. I don't have much to say except that maybe the key is to find a balance between how much we work on our appearance and how much better it makes us feel. One must find a balance to maximize that ratio. And in the end, you just have to stand in front of a mirror, smile, and love and accept what you're given. oh, and i disagree with you ali. I have nothing against enormous boobs and i'll think you'll find most guys feel the same way. But to me, plastic surgery needs to be about the way it will make YOU feel, not the result of other people's opinion.
Bryah: WELL i have a lot to share on this one . . .
About teeth (not to seem like a pig) but i do think that straighter teeth are more appealing to look at, but not important, and by no means must they be perfect. I personally am gifted with somewhat straight teeth and feel no need for any money to fix anything (mainly discoloration). As for multiple surgeries go . . . thats excesive and unnecessary, same with braces. Please do not waste time or money on your teeth that much; they still chew food fine and can still express the same emotions. I really only find completely disgusting teeth in the deep south or in some far out wilderness desolate area lol (no offense really). As for boobs (this is a bit awkward), i think every guy will have a different preference. Personally, my preferences lie mainly with personality, and i would rather see someone with natural boobs. Bigger (or smaller or even moderately sized) boobs are not necessarilly the best. DO NOT GO UNDER THE KNIFE FOR BIGGER BREASTS, if a guy cant live with you cause of "small" boobs then ditch him. Its reall ynot worth the time. Stay natural, what you have fits who you are and your personality - for me God made it that way. I like some shape in the breasts, but D's are way too big and gross). I personally dont like obese people because their weight tells me that they have not cared for their body. I cant stand that. But, natural weight is totally fine and i like that better. I actually dislike the synthetic skinny people in general. Synthetic is the key word. Again, take care of your body naturally and stay you r natural weight; unless you have a medical condition, im sure you wont be fat. NO KNIFES. I personally have some fat on my tummy, i dont like it, but nor do i sweat about it. I will live, and it does not inhibit anything i do. Please DO NOT FRET OVER THAT SMALL STOMACH FLAB!!! STAY EMOTIONALLY SOUND!!!
Zoe: this is a very awkward conversation...lol. but as the bearer of tiny boobs, i know the feeling of being self-concious about it...but overall, i dont care all that much, and would NEVER go under the knife for it...SO not worth it. and according to a source i'll leave anonimous "more than a hanful is a waste anyhow." and in response to all the "it should be about how you feel, not how others feel about you..." comments- those are the same thing...the people that are unhappy with how they look are only unhappy because they are comparing themselves to others, and feel inferior.
Bryah: Well i come from Texas . . . if that doesnt say enough:
Women in Texas LOVE make-up. It's a disease. I dont really like make-up on people because i like seeing their natural faces. A little make-up is ok, and a lot is only good for rare occaissions. I like a more natural look. Thank you for Colorado =D. Btw, thank you all my friends for not putting on a complete mask everyday. For me, its personality. Who they are on the inside. What they like, are interested in, care for, worry about, love, hate, enjoy, do. After that, after seeing their intelligence in social and academic stuff, physicality can hold play in keeping interest, but is deffinitely not a main factor. I like to try to focus on who a person really is, not what they look like. Thats humanizing, and not fair. I would like to hope that most other people do the same, i feel its respectful and right. But, people will be themselves, and thats perfection.
Zoe: sorry, but i have to refute all the "its all about who you are as a person" thing...because, while, ultimately, this is the most omportant thing, everyone judges the book by its cover and appearance does matter in that way. how you look is strongly tied to your approachability- it is often a reflection of you and how you cary yourself. you can tell a lot about a person by how they look most of the time. i feel like there is a line between "appearances matter" and being shallow.
Talia: Boobs: Sort of awkward... To anyone who knows me I know I joke around about breast sizes and all of that, but really it's because I can be insecure about the whole thing. I'm sort of on the opposite end of the spectrum.
I can tell you right now it sucks because that's the only thing people comment on. People come up to me all of the time and comment on my chest. I can deal with that, but it still hurts when you constantly have people telling you you have the wrong body type because it's such a shallow thing to care about.
Me: I think it's ridiculous what the standards of beauty are these days. I was at King Soopers the other day, and right by the self checkout, there was one of those celebrity gossip magazines, and on the front cover was a picture of Jessica Simpson and how scandalous it apparently is that she's getting "fat." Well, I picked up the magazine and skimmed through the article. Guess what? Jessica Simpson and I are basically the exact same build. She's only an inch taller than I am, we're the same weight, and the same sized boobs. I left the store feeling horrible, because if someone my exact same build is fat, then I guess I'm fat too. I mean, I don't think I'm skinny or anything. Not at all. I think I'm actually pretty curvy and a lot of the time I'm not happy with my body in the least. But I mean, seeing this HUGE woman on the cover apparently being my same build, it wasn't a happy sight. But eventually, too late, I realized that they used digital editing to make her look so heavy.
Wendy: That's awful, I also hate it when the "experts" notice the tiniest flaws in their figures that a normal person would never see, I think they are a big part in driving them to plastic surgery and that drives normal people to it, it's plain sadistic
Bryah: i hate "experts". SO DUMB. you think they could lay off for a moment . . .but no. Sorry girls, us guys made life so much harder for you by starting trends thousands of years ago. All i can say is sorry.
Talia: Sorry I didn't explain. People are always telling me "You're boobs are way too big" or "I want big boobs, but not as big as yours". I don't think it's acceptable for people pointing out something like that as if it's their business.
I'm fine with my body the way it is. I don't appreciate people telling me otherwise.
Me: And I'm totally with Talia about the boob size thing...I'm pretty big busted myself. I hate how that's all that guys see. It's like, hello, my face happens to be above my neck thank you very much.
Sammi: Well, I'm just going to start with boobs. Why not?
Coming from someone who has to go to special stores to buy bras because they are, indeed, that large, I think a small breast augmentation is acceptable if the woman has made the choice on their own. I guess it isn't that big of a deal for me because naturally my breasts are roughly the same size as Pamela Anderson's, possibly larger. (awkward, but honest) And as for the stereotype of men liking large breasts, I get close to zero male attention. so, there you go.
As for the skinny issue, I have had a similar struggle to yours, Wendy, along with some serious food addiction. I accept people of all sizes because I think that anyone who discriminates based on appearance especially with weight is on a new and terrible level of disgusting and loathsome. Most obese people have never been skinny or have had the chance to.

LOL @ my teenage girl-ness

I found another song to associate with John. Lol. The Jimmy Eat World song was too emo for my tastes. I decided to go with some Taylor Swift, ya know, because I think it's more accurate. Much more happy and carefree than depressing and angsty. What? She's talented and her lyrics are fantastic. Who cares if her accent is fake and she's really from Pennsylvania.

I think it's kind of weird that I'm always associating songs with people. I wonder if anyone else does that.

Fearless - Taylor Swift

There's somethin' about the way
The street looks when it's just rained
There's a glow off the pavement
You walk me to the car
And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there
In the middle of the parking lot
Yeah
Oh yeah

We're drivin' down the road
I wonder if you know
I'm tryin' so hard not to get caught up now
But you're just so cool
Run your hands through your hair
Absentmindedly makin' me want you

And I don't know how it gets better than this
You take my hand and drag me head first
Fearless
And I don't know why but with you I'd dance
In a storm in my best dress
Fearless

So baby drive slow
'Til we run out of road in this one horse town
I wanna stay right here in this passenger seat
You put your eyes on me
In this moment now capture it, remember it

Cause I don't know how it gets better than this
You take my hand and drag me head first
Fearless
And I don't know why but with you I'd dance
In a storm in my best dress
Fearless

Well you stood there with me in the doorway
My hands shake
I'm not usually this way but
You pull me in and I'm a little more brave
It's a first kiss,
It's flawless,
Really something,
It's fearless

Oh yeah
Cause I don't know how it gets better than this
You take my hand and drag me head first
Fearless
And I don't know why but with you I'd dance
In a storm in my best dress
Fearless

Cause I don't know how it gets better than this
You take my hand and drag me head first
Fearless
And I don't know why but with you I'd dance
In a storm in my best dress
Fearless

Oh, oh yeah

I'm breaking my own promises.

So the whole "getting over him" idea kind of failed.
He texted me today complaining about the DMV and I got really excited, because usually I'm the one texting him. Let's wait until I'm a total wreck come tomorrow morning and I see him in the cafe.
I'm just kind of over being all infatuated and stuff. I mean, it's nice for a while, liking someone. It's an awakening of the senses; you want to share everything with him and be with him always. Smiles all around. But after a while, it gets to be an emotional mess. I don't want to whine about a boy all the time. Sure it's good inspiration and I subsequently never have writer's block, but it's all lame-ass emo kid laments. I miss how I used to write, before high school and before I even liked boys. I want a time machine to take me back to fourth grade.

He's graduating in May, which both makes me happy and sad.
Happy because out of sight is out of mind, and sad for the same reason.

Also, I'm pissed off because I'm already losing my tone from the winter swim season. The cellulite legs are coming back! I can't afford to get fat because the summer season starts in May. I wish it was warm enough where I could go take a run or something, but no, it's freaking cold. I'm gradually disliking February more and more.

As this four day weekend is coming to a close, I find myself writing more letters. Thank goodness for only three days of school before the next weekend.

Oh, Cry-Baby, what you do to my heartstrings!

Johnny Depp is a fucking gorgeous man. I don't care if everyone knows how obsessed I am. All the haters are jealous of his amazingness. He's beautiful. He's talented (in singing and acting). And he's funny. Who care's that he's 30 years older than myself and the same age as my mother, I am still madly in love with him.This year, Public Enemies and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus is coming out. I'm so excited for both. The former will be released in July, and the latter will be released in September. The teaser for TIODP has come out already, but it's kind of lame and not much of a teaser. The Public Enemies teaser trailer is rumored to be previewed during the Oscars on the 22nd. I'm siked.


Oh by the way, totally not on the topic of my one true love, but I bought the Ghostbusters theme song ringtone. It's amazing.

23 is over.

I hold crushes and attraction on two different levels. I've been attracted to numerous people in my life, but I've only had a crush on about two, I think. The first one being Scott. The second one being John, currently.

Scott ended up being a mistake that led to heartbreak and self-loathing. I think things will be different with John, but not too different. I think I'm setting myself up for heartbreak, but I'm not sure if it's a mistake. I somehow feel that I'm going to come out of it happier than before. I'm closer to John than I was with Scott. We have a stronger relationship and I feel very blessed by his friendship. John is too kind of a person to be harsh and cruel.
I just know I'm going to end up being heartbroken over it. Even if he isn't harsh about it, I will be. But maybe, he won't have to shut me off. He's graduating in the spring. Maybe once I don't see him every single day, I'll move on. Out of sight is out of mind. But I'm just brainstorming here. For the time being, it's all hypothetical.
I just know that I like him a lot. More than Scott I think. He makes me happy inside. I'm not in love, I just really like him and I miss him. I don't think we'd do well in a relationship together, just being the type of people that we are. Friendship is good enough for me, even though I feel stronger about it than he probably does. But I have to remember my birthday horoscope, and forget about what Jimmy Eat World is telling me. I have to wait. John isn't "the one." I'm way too young for that.

This is all a part of life. I have to get over my emo bullshit and move on.

Let's see where this takes me...

all we can do is keep breathing.

I stole another "writer's block" thingy from LJ. I thought this would be fun.

Put your player on shuffle. The first line of the first 20 songs is a poem. The 21st song is the title.

Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel

When I find myself in times of trouble
When there's nowhere else to run
From ocean to sky
You win it's your show now
You and me, we like the same kind of music
In this world of hate and shallowness
She's only eighteen
Don't go breaking my heart
I want it all
I got birds in my ears and a devil on my shoulder
When I was young I'd listen to the radio
This may be the last thing that I write for long
Didi, you don't
I felt for sure last night that once we said goodbye
Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move
Too late baby, there's no turning around
So you got no place to go
Some people have it and other people don't
If you wanna make the move then you better come in
Of a face full of words you'd think a few would be right


Haha it didn't turn out too bad...okay, maybe it did. But it could be a good start haha. I like lines 1-3, but the rest is just chaos.

So yeah I figured I'd update.

John has been sick for a few days. I hadn't seen him since Friday. But when I walked into the cafe this morning and saw him, my insides went all twisted and I got really excited. I didn't expect such a reaction. I guess that's what happens when the man you're head over heels in like with shows up at school after he's been sick all week. Haha. Pathetic, I know, I know. He greeted me with one of his big, amazing hugs that make you feel extra special and lucky. It was nice.

Anyway, enough with the sappiness.

So, Claire and Corey are together now. Yes, Corey my cousin. They're so cute oh my god! I can tell that they both really like each other. More on that later.

I have a bio test to study for.
Laterr<3