Perspective

Last Saturday I was at the school early in the morning practicing for choir. I drove all the way there, found a spot in the parking lot, and pulled out my phone to make a snapchat lightly complaining about my situation. I opened the app and held it at the appropriate selfie angle. But when the app loaded and the camera opened, it wasn't on forward-facing, but was pointing outside my little car and into the massive expanse of the sky. What I saw was breathtaking. The clouds were voluminous, reflecting the light of the sun, and filled my screen with an almost magical beauty. How did I miss such a sight on the entire drive here? How could I be so blind? I knew the answer. I was only looking at myself. My single-mindedness was holding me back from all of the good things surrounding me. I was reminded to flip my camera more in life.
Take the time to focus on what is around you; if you only focus on yourself, you miss out on the exquisite beauty of your own environment. Open your eyes to a new perspective. You don't know yet what you will find.

More

When people day they are nothing without church, that makes me sad.
Because you are more than your religion.
More than your race.
More than your school.
More than your money.

You are a beautiful, interesting, complex, and unique person, and it's wrong to overlook all of that to fit a stereotype. Don't label yourself! I know I've said this before, but I can't stand it. I wish people could see themselves for who they are on the inside, rather than by the things they have and are involved with on the outside.

10 Things My Future Husband Needs to Know About Me

1. I'm lactose intolerant, but I really love dairy. (Don't let me have too much.)
2. I like to buy you little surprises and gifts once in a while, so let me know what your favorite things are.
3. Lost by Michael Buble is my sad song. If you hear it, give me a hug.
4. I hate being wet. So don't splash me while you help me do the dishes.
5. I like to be pampered when I'm sick.
6. I'm not great at sewing, but I know how to patch jeans if you need me to.
7. I may not be able to have children, nor am I sure if I want any.
8. However, I do want a dog.
9. I'm a picky eater, but I'll still make your favorite foods, even if I won't eat them. (More for you, right?)
10. Lastly-- I love you, even when I'm upset. I promise.

Song of the Day

When was the last time you thought of me?

Or have you completely erased me from your memory?

I often think about where I went wrong.

The more I do, the less I know.

I know I have a fickle heart, and a bitterness,

and a wandering eye, and a heaviness in my head.

But don't you remember?

Don't you remember

The reason you loved me before?

Please remember me once more.

I gave you the space so you could breathe.

I kept my distance so you would be free,

And hoped that you'd find the missing piece

To bring you back to me.

Why don't you remember?

~Don't You Remember by Adele~

Grown Ups

Responsibility is always having a place to be, and lacking the time to go to the all of the places you want to go. It's having money, but always having people you have to give it up to. It's working hour upon hour to afford rent, only so you can keep the apartment that you hardly get to live in because you're at work all the time. It's losing your childhood friends that you don't have the time and resources to keep up with anymore. It's everything pressuring you, and if you do well, you're pressured to do even better, and there's no amount of things you can accomplish to stop being pressured. Being grown up is all responsibility. I don't know why I ever wanted that.

Grand Re-Opening

I haven't written since late January, but a lot has happened since then, so I'll give you the basic update: I quit my job at McDonald's and went to work for Panda Express. I went on a date with a guy I really like, and then never saw him again. I got 27 on the ACT (not horrible). I lost 12 pounds... Still have a long way to go. I started seeing a psychiatrist, and started taking an herbal supplement called "Sunny Mood"; we'll see how that goes. I moved away from my childhood home I've been in for 14 years and moved to a big twin home a couple stoplights away. I went to girls camp with my ward and had to say goodbye to them. There was a lot of crying involved. I read three books, watched a lot of movies, and finished every episode of Glee on Netflix. I dyed my hair slightly darker and redder, bought a spice rack for my nail polish, and built a shelf all by myself.
Aaaaand I guess that's about it. Contact me if there's anything you want to hear more about, and I will be happy to expound.
Welcome back to the blog.

Where the Heart Is

 Middle May,

I drive away

in my little silver Dodge.

Sun so hot it bites my skin,

As I bite my lip

to hold the tears.

Home Sweet Home,

But now it's gone.

I'll miss it every day.

Red shutters on a yellow house

morph into brown and gray.

New ward,

new things,

But they all seem old and dry.

New bench,

and every Sunday,

silently I cry.

New people,

no friends,

I walk the streets alone.

This isn't where my heart belongs,

I no longer live at home.

Middle June,

I drive by

my old house on 110.

In the window,

I can see,

all the walls are painted tan.

The colors are gone,

and so is my home,

I'm missing a part of me.

I must be the first to live in a house

So completely homelessly.

*me complaining about responsibility*

To whoever I've ever told that I wanted to grow up: I take it back. Growing up is not fun at all. I don't even feel like a human anymore, I feel like a little robot. All I do is go from place to place, attempting to fulfill my many responsibilities and still manage to get some sleep in between (that part doesn't always happen). And at age 17, in all of these places I am just pushed around. I'm always the inferior, I'm always bugging someone for help, and I'm always surrounded by people I don't really want to be around. I really just want to take a step back, be alone, and breathe for two seconds, but apparently that's not in the description of being an adult. Isn't that gross? I'll be 18 this year. Disgusting.
In other news, I'm switching jobs. Sayonara, McDonald's. (or should I say Adios?) I'm a Panda Express girl now. It's been real, but I'm not getting paid enough for the crap I have to deal with.
Also, at the new semester, I've started a Creative Writing class. I've decided I'll post some of the things I write for my class on here, so you guys can read something other than me ranting and complaining about my life. As much as everyone loves that..

The Evolution of my Eyebrows

I'm 100% sure that anyone who is really close to me saw this post coming. I've struggled with my eyebrows for years. This weekend, when my mom had me clean out some old school things and pictures, I was reminded of all of the horrific states my poor brows have been in. So enjoy this series of photos, and feel free to shed a tear or two on my face's behalf. (BONUS CONTENT: Crappily applied make up)

 2009: All natural

2010: Waxed and kind of tweezed

2010:  Extremely over-tweezed

2011: Growing back

2012: Grown out, but thin and invisible

2013: .....Eyebrow penciled

2013: Misshapen and overdrawn

2013: Toned down

2014

So basically all I accomplished in 2013 was learning what NOT to do with make up. Cheers to 2014.

Happy 2014.

Confession #976421: I HATE New Years.
"Ah, the new year," I wrote on January 1, 2013. "People say, 'What goes up must come down.' But in that moment when you're sitting in the 20-foot ditch 2012 threw you in, you really just want to make a new rule that says, 'What goes down must come UP.' That'd really be nice for a change."
Less than a week later I wrote, "I'm not okay. I'm sure I'll be okay later; I'm just not right now." Well, later never really came in 2013. This New Years has probably been the most depressing of any year before. I made 0 goals, and I didn't want to. I hate that whole fresh start thing, because we treat every year like it's own separate thing. Everyone thinks the new year and their new life is a package deal, but it's not. In a week or two you'll be back to doing whatever tedious and repetitive things you did last year. Writing a 4 instead of a 3 on your checks won't make your bills any cheaper. Wishing you could lose 50 pounds won't make you any thinner. But maybe that's what I hate about New Years goals: no one ever does anything about them. I never do anything about them. And now the beginning of the year just represents all of the things I failed to do last year. I hate that.