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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..