9.30.2009

Lord.my.soul.delights

I haven't decided if I'm going to continue the strange punctuation titles into October. It could be just a September thing. I can never think of labels anymore.
But I figure I haven't blogged about homecoming week, so I'll do so right now.
There are a certain few people that I can talk to anytime. I mean, that I'm always in the mood to talk to. They pretty much always make me feel better, and I feel like they genuinely care about me and my best interest.
Right now, there's a little caste system (fourth grade castle times history legit) that goes one to two then on two three. The rest after that are just randomly placed.
So I was talking to Nick, who is in this caste system. He doesn't usually say a whole lot through text (hard to believe with how much he talks, no?) but he always listens. Well at least I think he listens. So I was telling him about how much homecoming week bothers me, just because it's an excuse to be materialistic and skanky. But this year, it seems more and more guys are cross dressing during homecoming week. Like, if they wear little soffe shorts, they're just SO much hotter.
No, you look like Forrest from HelloGoodbye! and I don't want to see your masculine business (or lack thereof). A couple of guys have bent over in front of me, and there are things I don't want to know. I don't know how I phrased that when telling Nick, but he just about laughed his pants off.
Which leads me to something I've learned about myself: If God didn't give me a sense of humor, life really wouldn't be too enjoyable for me. I enjoy God's sense of humor, especially. And I guess I also appreciate people for who they truly are. I'd rather have a truly sad person talk to me than a falsely happy person.
There's a point where we've just gotta stop pretending, you know? It's like the criminals that are being put to trial...when they lie enough, they begin to believe the lie to be fact.
Like....one of the Mercury 7 astronauts. I think it was Gus Grissom, but I'm not sure. The hatch door blew open upon splashdown (landing in the middle of the ocean) and they lost the spacecraft because of it. He swore that it just blew, that he didn't push the button, but every scientific fact went against that. They had tested dropping this hatch on solid concrete hundredsd of times, and this had never happened.
So we believe we're happy, we believe we're not lonely, maybe even that we're successful...when the truth is, acknowledging that lets you enjoy happiness and peace that much more.
The shadow proves the sunshine, I always say.
Switchfoot lyrics are poetry set to the sound of a guitar. SERIOUSLY.
Sure, we're not gonna dwell in that shadow, throw a pity party, and throw ashes on our head everyday, but we can for a little bit. I don't know how many times I've said this, too many, I'm sure, but God lets me wallow in my misery for a few minutes before setting me straight.
It's kind of like when I'm about to get upset, he'll say "Remember how you felt last time? Don't you just wanna skip that?"
And I reply, "Yes God, thank you!" because I KNOW He's right. He's ALWAYS right.
Another thing with homecoming: Dear goodness, it costs some dough!
Tickets, dinner, dress, date, transportation...you easily spend hundreds of dollars.
For my homecoming this year, which I'm looking forward to more than the past three dances I've been to,
it's going to be....hhhhmmmm....at most, $40. Probably more like $20. Which is awesome. I'm pumped.
But why spend money on something I'll be tempted to call "the second worst night of my life"? Because everyone's doing it. That's usually the answer. Because I never have any fun.
I'm done being the one to follow what everyone's doing. I'm finished with having somebody think for me. God's given me a brain, I'm going to use it. God's given me a body, I'm going to respect it. God's given me talent, I'm not gonna waste it! You know? I hope you understand where I'm coming from.
Right now, I'm listening to "Deeper" by Hillsong...which is EXACTLY how I feel right now. I have my seasons of hillsong songs, and "Deeper" and "His Glory Appears" are definitely in this season.

I have a random thought. I was walking next to our homecoming float, which was disney, and "Someday My Prince Will Come" was playing. And I thought about how random Philip is for a Prince's name. Aladdin, Charming, PHILIP. Anyway.

-LL
p.s.- this is my 87th published blog. 13 more and we'll be at 100!!! I actually have 91, including un-published ones...boo.

9.29.2009

through.the.pain.she.opened.her.eyes

I'm sorry, dear friends, that' it's been such a long time since I've blogged. It's like, I'll be talking to somebody, and think "That would be one awesome blog" yet when I get home, I forget. And homework takes priority.
I've figured out that the longer I wait to blog, the more comments I get. I gotta say, I LOVE getting the feedback. Not to a ridiculous point, but it makes me think about what I've said, or even what I haven't said.
I'm lovin the new layout. It reminds me of apple computers and their ever-awesome backgrounds.
I just got Sydney's letter today, which always makes my day WAY better. Especially because it was a Hello Kitty envelope, but that's a different story.
I'm not gonna just write out the whole letter, but there was one thing that stuck out to me. It's a rather normal thing to think, but she put it in a way that was like...whoa. She hit the nail on the head.
So she said:
"I've been thinking a lot lately. Thinking about guys, God, and love."
And I was like...dude. Sydney. You just put the ENTIRE content of my brain into a sentence. Sure there's school, sleeping, etc. to fit into our days.
But in the middle of that three-word sandwich, there's God. Which is essentially the easiest one to deal with. He's there. He loves you. He'll always be there. He'll always love you. He's all powerful, He's all knowing. He's omnipresent, He Himself IS understanding. There. You got it.
If I were to write her sentence again, I'd say "God, love, and guys"
because love is the middle, where things to gray for most.
I never know how to spell gray. Grey? Gray? Grey? Grae? I have no idea. Like on a math worksheet today, there was a name. Gheri. I said Gary. Apparently it's Jerry. Why don't you just frickin spell your name normal and stop making pre-calc students suffer?
Love is the gray area where things stop making sense. Some people tend to associate it more with guys, while not a whole lot of people in high school associate it with God.  If I were to stand up in front of a pep rally, grab the microphone, and ask how many people would give up dating for their ENTIRE high school and college career, how many would raise their hand? What if they had to give up partying, drugs, drinking, even swearing until the end of high school? How many would really follow through?
Not many. To stand up in a pep rally by yourself anyway would be difficult. It might be easier for some to be like "I have AIDS" than to say "I believe that Jesus Christ is alive, God loves me, and I'm forgiven"
But if I had to make that decision, to stand up while everyone is sitting, I'd do it every time.
I've been having difficulty with that lately. Accepting that I'm the only one standing up. Especially when people are trying to get me to sit down, while being pelted with flying objects.
Obviously, standing up while everyone is sitting down makes you much more likely to be hit by said objects. A lot of people aren't going to agree, so I'm guessing these projectiles aren't going to be roses and other assortments of flowers. They're going to be unpleasant.

I'm learning that. The hard way. Lily among thorns has NEVER so aptly applied. Especially last night. I was taking a class full of almost 20 adults over 21. And there's me, the 16 year old, in my old roxy slip ons, dr. seuss notebook and all. I'd like to think that they admired my effort at taking an adult level class, but I'm not too sure. A lot of them thought I was younger than I am, though. But oh well!


Today's not a good day for a thoughtful blog de Leah. So expect one this weekend, perhaps, while I'm not writing letters or theatre reviews.

I love you all.
-LL

p.s.- tomorrow is class theme day for Homecoming.
It's....VACATION!
seniors- jungle
juniors- disneyland
 sophomores- beach
freshmen- hollywood.
Ours is definitely more legit, but I'll be dress as Alice from Alice in Wonderland ALL DAY. And people will give me strange looks. Lily among thorns. Pretty literally, I'd say. My guitar class should be pretty interesting.

9.24.2009

weakness.leaving.the.body.

okay p.s. (pre-script)- New blog template. I know, it's only been like a month since I got my last one, but I was getting a little sick of it. I was going to do one that look like it was a notebook and had a cell phone at the top, a pen, a cup of coffee...well, you can just look for yourself.
But I've decided that's not what I want to publish my life as. Busy, cluttered, yet pretty cool looking. I'm maturing, and I want that to be obvious.
Back to our normally scheduled program



Being in public high school, I've heard quite a few motivational speakers and met quite a few people who just say random things that are like...whoa. Profound. But yesterday, I was having a conversation that made me realize how much of a lily among thorns I am.
Or I guess a lightbulb among the matches. So, in theatre, we have these really cliche scenes that we made ourselves with lines that are pre-picked, but you can arrange them and cut and paste them and blah blah blah.
In my scene, I ended up with the monologue. Good luck, right? Right. Well, it's all memorized, so I'm all good.
So I'm sitting in the library typing this, and these two guys in front of me (facing me) keep acting awed at how fast I type. I understand saying it the first time, but this is like the fifth time they've stared at my hands and said something. I think I type like 85, possibly 90 wpm on a good day. But with a blog, I have to think of what to say, so I type slower. Man. I must be like a superhero or something. And now one kid is just plain staring at me. TAKE A PICTURE IT'LL LAST LONGER!

Anyway. Monologue should go well. But one of the people (that's been missing for three days, frickin sickie!) wasn't there. So we pretty much could do nothing without her, so we were wandering around with our sister group (who was also missing their director, who is a vital part of their scene) and buying smoothies and whatnot. 2.75 for a smoothie, which I don't have. So everybody had one except for me, pretty much.
And Walt, my director, a senior who's also in Encore Plays (which are like actor gods to Chap) was just leaning on the stairs, after Cameron (who I've just recently gotten to know) walked away.
And Walt says: 
"You know what? I think we have a certain amount of hate we're allowed to have. Like take, for example, Cameron Walter. I used to have a certain amount of hate for him last year. Not total hate, but just enough to be like 'man that guy just pisses me off!' but I've come to know him and he's a good guy. But now, it's for Brittany Schaffer. I mean, I just hate being around her. I don't like a lot of things about her, she's just annoying in general. So all my hate is just focused on her, I'm good with everyone else"
It's one of those moments I wanted to record and play back to him in ten years or so. But I realized how stupid he was for saying that. How do you hate a person?
I just would like to ask somebody that.
"Hey So-and-so, how do you hate a person?"
Based on their previous experiences, biases, and various notions, they'll tell you different things. I really couldn't think of how to answer that. Even to the point where I don't know where to begin.
Sure, people aren't my favorite.
But I really don't hate anybody. Then I figured, logically, what is the opposite? Love. If I took the exact opposite of what Walt said, it would be "I think there's a certain amount of love we're allowed to have."
I think that's true, as a human being. We can express our love, through being physical, through words, perhaps even through thought. But there's a boundary that love reaches and can't exceed.
Oh ho ho, my friend, but it can!
The love of God. I think it's because we're not supposed to hate. Hate poisons love, I'm pretty sure. The more you hate, the less you love. You can't hate somebody and love them at the same time.
There's a kid. I don't hate him, but as I've been putting it, I'm not his biggest fan. At all. In fact, if he said something even the slighest bit rude or mean, I'd be VERY tempted to go all crazy-leah-cage-match-UFC-fighter on his sorry butt. Or just punch him in the face. But I don't hate him. He's a nice guy, he's made many mistakes, he's alright. I love him like a brother. If I had to live with him, I wouldn't be too happy, but we get along alright.
But last week, for the first couple days of seeing him, I just really couldn't stand him. Everything he did was just obnoxious to me, every joke he made just wasn't funny, even the shirt he was wearing was ugly to me.
I seriously had to bite my tongue and not say anything I'd regret. Because I've already betrayed him once by saying something that I shouldn't have said, and I'm not doing that again. He deserves better than that.
So yeah, I don't hate him. I don't exactly like him right now, I'm not his biggest fan, and I don't really want to do him any favors anytime soon, but I do love him.
I'm capable of hating, but I just won't do it. I'm tempted A LOT, but again, I just can't. It's not right, and I don't want to be that way.
And that's my little "blurb" for the day, I guess. Love and hate. Angels and demons, almost.


Okay, while I still have some time...like ten minutes...I'll explore a little quote.
"Pain is weakness leaving the body"
Really? Really? I think pain lets us know that we need help. We're human, we can't do it alone. EVER. Pain. It could be getting a paper cut, it could be impaling yourself on a flag pole.
Yes, I shuddered when I wrote that. Try not to imagine the latter image.
 Pain is just that. Pain. Hurt. It can be physical, which is usually implied through the dumb shirts that people wear that make them look REALLY REALLY REALLY cool. Not. Or emotional, mental pain even?
Emotional pain, that's something I relate to more. I've never been seriously injured physically, so I guess I wouldn't know the full bounds of pain. I was just thinking about the opposite of pain. I couldn't think of the word, so I looked it up.
Comfort, good health, well-being, joy. 
We find comfort in that love. We find pain, suffering, trouble, in hate. Hating somebody doesn't make you feel too good, I'd imagine. 


I'll leave it on that. Sorry it's a long blog, I typed it for 45 minutes...so. Have fun reading! 
Jane Eyre opening night tonight! So...pretty much I left my house at 7:15 and I'll get home around 9:30. Woop de woop.


Love you guys.
-LL

9.22.2009

were.hearts.made.whole.just.to.break?

Hmmm. So, I find it funny that I was texting Paanii this morning. We don't text as much as we used to, so it's usually initiated through some event. Or if I just feel like texting him. And vice versa, obviously.
But I was like heyo buddy [current situation that i'll get to lately] just happened and blah.
"So that's why you were crying during prayer?"
You have to understand that on Sundays, there's a 99% chance that I cry at some point. Sometimes it's just tears in my eyes, others it's plain crying.
But something had somewhat upset me, and I was holding it in for prayer. Because I knew that it would be constructive crying; to the point where I grabbed the tissue box, took it over to my corner, took off my shoes, set down the box, grabbed a tissue, and went to town.
That's when I thought of "Porcelain Heart" by Barlow Girl...

Creator only You take brokenness
And create it into beauty once again


I'm never one to say "He broke my heart!" because the truth of the matter is, your heart is still fully functioning and I'm pretty sure you'll survive. No, no. I'm POSITIVE you'll survive. Coming out of it will SUCK, believe me, but you'll scrape yourself up off the pavement and move on.
But for the sake of argument, I'll use the term of a broken heart.
It's like everytime I put away the tissues, reapply the makeup, and stand back up again, I get shoved down. Of course we have the ever-motivational scriptures like "You are who God says you are" and "He'll never place on you more than you can bear"
But that just doesn't do it for me. That's nice if you're having to do planks in self defense and you feel like your abs are going to explode and your arms are going to fall off, or somebody called you a bad name.
After being "heart broken" so many times, I was ready to take myself back. After saying "Do whatever, God", I was ready to take myself back. I really didn't even wanna deal with anything, let alone something to do with a stupid overreactive boy that could care less. And because I'm myself, I thought of an analogy.
We have a car, right? Beat up, cracked windshield, seats with the stuffing coming out, I mean, this car is just torn apart. And this one super magical (yet unaware of the current "recession") repair place/garage decides they'll repair your car, brand new, for nothing.
Now, if you're not Jon & Kate Plus 8 or Kim Kardashian, this is pretty frickin insane to believe. Thousands of dollars in repairs for free, just because you're you.
But as your watching from the little window inside the waiting room of this repair place, sipping back on your free hot chocolate that has a little too much chocolate, you see them ripping out the seats, taking out the windshield, perhaps even taking a sledgehammer to things.
I mean, you GAVE them your car. You said "Hey guys, thank you SO much, here you go. Do whatever you want"
But after watching the demolition occur in your car, it's difficult to bear. Your parents bought you that car when you first learned to drive, your first roadtrip, practically all of your memories are in the car.
The end result. The end result is what makes it worth the cringing as you see your seats being reapholstered, your rearview mirror taken out and replaced, your windshield replaced by a new, uncracked windshield.
But the repairs just take SO long. I want to drive my car, I don't care how it looks, I don't care if it stalls, this is inconvenient.
God's the exact same way. His gift is free, and he gives it out liberally. We get to trade in our old beat up car, let Him have His way with it, and in the end, it's flawless...because His love is in every stitch of the apholstery, He has His cross hanging from our rearview mirror, we can see through our new windshield like we've never been able to see before. But a lot of the time it's painful. We experience the ripping, the tearing, the breaking, just to be made whole again.

There's a scripture that I have given to a few people, that completely convinces me that this process is worth it.
"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
-1 Peter 1:6
Man. You think about that, there's nothing that you don't want to do for His praise, glory, and honor.
And I still think about this situation, the one I was talking about earlirer, and it upsets me. It really does make me feel stupid, not cared for, insignificant, and like I'm really not worth the chase at all.
Yet God Himself has run after me, for my ENTIRE life. This guy that's giving me crap is nothing compared to the grand scheme of things. I'm being tested, I'm having my seats reapholstered, and it's not pleasant.

So, that's my (Sydney) "blurb" for the day. It's a long blurb, because I'm home sick today, and I don't want to do any homework.

I love you all.
-LL

p.s.- I read 1 Peter over the summer, and decided to look at the context of what Peter was saying. Then I came upon the next two verses. So, enjoy, as a continuation:
"Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls."
-verses 8, 9 

9.19.2009

all.for.love

I don't know what to say right now.
After prayer, I feel like I have so much to say! So I'll start with one thought, and gradually work my way around.
I always pray in the same corner since a month or two ago. I like it because I hit a wall, I turn around, I hit the drums, I turn around. I don't have to think about walking. And it's just wood and orange. Mics and drums. More wood and orange.
But have you ever had it when you get a thought that's practically being screamed in your head?
This time it was "Somebody will fall in love with YOU. You, Leah Pauline. Just YOU."
I just read Grace's blog. And she realized that she's herself. She's Grace. Her best friends are best friends to Grace. And I was like whoa. I get that. I GET THAT!
At prayer, it just broke me down. Seven words that tore me apart. It's like "Yeah Leah, duh! Somebody's gonna fall in love with you."
No no no, blog reader. ME. Leah with all the flaws. Leah the one that nobody truly understands. The randomness, the crazyness, the crying, the love of guys that speak french, the "musician", everything. Of Leah.
I pretty much lost it, thinking about some guy that I don't even know yet. Or I might know him.
So with this, I realized that I've just become okay with crying. Like while praying yesterday, I didn't even realize I was crying. Like it's some kinda normal thing now! But only in church. Otherwise I feel like a little emotional girl who doesn't deal with things very well. But when I pray, it's like I'm not doing my job if I don't cry. Which leads me to ANOTHER point.
I sing loud when I want to. I can sing fairly quiet, or I can sing loud, because I've gotten pretty good at it.
But yesterday, I was singing so....hard...that my stomach started to hurt. And I felt like it wasn't enough. God deserved so much more than I was giving him. It's like, you know when you're friend is just...hurting, and you want to do everything for them, but you can't. But you do what you can. And somehow you find that balance, giving what you can and they take it all.
Except with God, it's times about a bajillion. He takes it ALL, and can still have room for more! Which is crazy.  That's a whooollleee lot of worship. Which made me realize how much God wants me to understand. But I can't. He teaches, I slowly learn, and that process continues for the rest of my life.
Yet God has picked somebody out for me that will walk with me through this process. It'll be me, God, and my "One". It'll be great, I'm sure! Not just great, but awesome, amazing, any other MAJOR word that's really good.
So that's it. Homecoming is in two weeks, just thought i'd tell you. If I have any more drama, I'm shaving my head and putting ashes on it.
Not really =] just thought I'd get all biblical up in the blog.

Happy Talk Like A Pirate Day!!!
-LL

9.16.2009

its.your.love.that.has.saved.me

It's a day where I'm kinda sick of everything.
Anyway.
ANYWAY. I tend to say that a lot. So, today, I have a list of Leah's mannerisms:
anyway.
okay so.
with that,
obviously.
i dunno.
aaaannnndddd

I think that's it. So...lately, I've lost my words. When speaking, when writing...it's just...left.  Especially when I'm trying to express something that I have strong feelings about.
Like, for example: when you're really excited to find out the results of something. And in anticipation, you just happen to have friends asks you why you're so...antsy, happy, confused-looking, etc.
You tell them, and of course, they say "tell me the results when you get them!"
Well results didn't turn out the way you anticipated. At all. Quite the opposite, really.
Then for the follwoing three days, people remember what they had said and say "SO DO YOU KNOW?" And I have to re-live the emotions as I tell them the story.
Like today, I had to explain it for the billionth time.
Which turned into a "long story short". Then I had to go eat a cookie. It's like I'm okay with the result, I learn to live with it, I realize it's not a big deal, then I'm thrown right back into the funk of rejection.
It's not like somebody died. Nobody's pregnant (this time), and I'm just as broke as I was yesterday (minus $25, which was used to buy 2 theatre t-shirts that i HAVE to buy. I could've bought two pairs of jeans at ross. legit).
But it's just put me in a funk. Best way to describe it.
So. That's it. I'm listening to Jack Johnson, just because he's my calming. Legit. I don't even know why.
And "Sea of Love" by Cat Power. That usually gets me.

Guess what? I REMEMBERD WHAT I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT!
The girl that I wrote about last....hhmmmm....Friday? Yes, Friday. After I wrote the blog, I was like
"Ya know Allie, I'm always so mean to you! Or at least I act mean. I've never hugged you in my life."
So I hugged her. And said
"You're just really nice. You're a good person, Allie, I don't think anybody tells you that"
And it's like from that point forward, she decided we were cool. She talks to me, she jokes with me, she stands next to me in warm-ups. She laughs at my jokes, even!
It's just nice to know that words can have that kind of a positive effect. I'm tired of learning the negative effects, ya know? I read a verse yesterday in my devotional:
"The right word spoken at the right time is as beautiful as gold apples in a silver bowl"
by the way, the YLT translation sounds like Yoda. I just realized this. Look it up and you'll know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.
Gold apples in a silver bowl. That's pretty...legit. This scripture is pretty much like my making my life right now. Because I want people to say things, I want things to happen, I want to climb ladders! But everything works out just right.
The "result"...I could've found out earlier, later, maybe not at all. But it was destined to happen when it did. It had to go the way it did, and I had to experience it.
But on the other tangential hand, (vocab word heck yes!) it's when God tugs on your heart to say something to somebody.
"I don't know why, but I feel like I should tell you that you look really good today"
That can pretty much make somebody's life. See, I would know. That tends to happen to me a lot. God's uncanny sometimes. Like "whoa...how did you know that?"

So that's my "blurb" for the day. Again, quoting Sydney. I love that chica.
-LL

9.15.2009

you.took.my.place.you.showed.me.grace

Man. Nothing to say.
Or more like...so much to say. I keep thinking about the same thing I'd like to write a blog about when I'm walking from fifth to sixth period in front of the office. It's crazy. Yet I can never remember when it comes to writing. Dang.
Hmmm....well, I'll be sure to write down my good ideas.
I'd tell you how bad yesterday was, but....
okay okay. I'll tell you how bad yesterday was.
First period- off.
I woke up in a relatively good mood, thanks to "Lead Me to the Cross" as my wake-up-ringtone.
Showered.  Relatively normal.
I decided yesterday wasn't a pretty day. So I sprayed the crap out of my hair and put it in a bun, which looked relatively cute for being ugly. Because I added the bow and all. Bows make anything cute...within reason.
Pre-second period: I go to the library to print out my conclusion. I forgot to save it as an attachment to my email that I emailed myself, since our printer is broken and all.  That was great.
Second period: "Get out your vocab books" "CRAP." Not only did I forget to bring my vocab book, I forgot to do it COMPLETELY. So we answer in a circle, right? Like we sit and a circle and go in a line to say the answers. So I'd say "pass" with a smile everytime. It made my teacher laugh. Every time. She then comes around to see our conclusions...so I say "Long story short, I don't have it"
and she says "Well today just isn't your day, now is it?"
No, Mrs. O'Connell, it wasn't.
Third period: Chemistry. Lab partner likes to feel sorry for himself, says he's going to drive off of a bridge. Well, considering there are no major bridges around here, I wasn't too worried. I'd visit him in the hospital. Chemistry was pretty uneventful..
Fourth period: FREEZING COLD AS ALWAYS. Heather also wasn't there...eye appointment. Heather Hunsaker is like my history goddess. She always keeps me entertained. We started a three/four day long movie, which is a HECK YESSS for a lazy person like me.
Fifth period: Pre-calc. Oh joy of joys, right? Math. Nuff said. STILL freezing cold.
Sixth period: Guitar. So I walk up to the guitar room, when Robert Moroni (the demon seed of atheism and all that is perverted) says "OH Leah I borrowed your guitar here ya go." Oh gee, Robert, thanks. Not only that, but I get in the class, unzip my case, and start to play.
Wait a second. This doesn't sound right
"Leah T you're up next"
Oh wait. He tuned it three half-steps lower. THANKS ROBERT. Not only am I unprepared to perform my song, but I also have to FRICKIN RE-TUNE MY GUITAR.
At this point, I was about five minutes from crying or punching somebody in the face. Not only that, but this classroom is ALSO very cold. I performed, got a 95, long story short. It was good.
Lunch. HALLELUJAH. I explain everything I've just said in about fifteen minutes, with innate detail about being rejected as a date/friend/friend-date.
Seventh period: Spanish- sucky. As usual. Our teacher teaches us nothing then yells at us when we fail tests; however, I didn't fail this one! I got a B.
Eighth period: Theatre. Pretty chill and all. I'm never really mad at theatre. Except for Mike Powell who's dumb and thinks he's the stuff.
After school: makeup training. Oh wait, I'm the ONLY ONE who wasn't told that it was moved to Wednesday! I could've gone home. No, I stayed for about a half hour. Sat through the other crew meeting.

I decide to eat vanilla frozen yogurt with pieces of peach. Yum-tastic! Then I was like Oh I'm gonna watch the Lion King. I decided instead to do homework and start on my paper.
There we go. Procrastinator Leah was defeated. Or at least delayed.
And then I decided I would listen to "You Belong With Me" just because i'm starting to like that song.
Then I remember that no real story ends like Taylor Swift's videos. The whole "bad day" thing comes back, RIGHT when I'm writing my essay. So I'm sitting there, trying to not to cry because I feel sorry for myself. Oh yeah, pleasant place to be. Writing about fast food, holding back tears, listening to Taylor Swift. Best night of my life. NOT.
Again, I'm a crier. Just the way I am.
So that was my day. I woke up today to the same ringtone and decided that it would be good no matter what was thrown at me.
It worked fairly well! I think we should live everyday like that. Or at least, I should. Because when I'm unpleasant, I'm UNPLEASANT. Legit.
And then Molly texted me mid-morning a scripture, which makes me love her more than I already do, which is nearly impossible.
"...You will walk in a manner worth yof the Lord, to please Him in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God; Strengthened with all power according to His glorious might, for the attaining of all steadfastness and patience"
-Colossians 1:10-11
I gotta say that it's been one of those times where I don't feel like being myself. It's like in the Sims. When you get sick of one family, when things get to complicated, you just start another one.
Nope. Real life here, dorky Leah.

So that's my rant for the day. My tangent, if you will.

I love you all.


And my last bucket list item didn't work out at all...yet. There's still next year! and prom. And homegoing.

-LL

9.12.2009

you.gave.me.hope.you.made.me.whole

So when I shower, I usually have some kind of random thought pattern. Okay okay, EXTREMELY random.
But lately, I've been thinking about a single subject. Vulnerability.
My dog just walked by. For some reason, she's wearing a cape. Like she's just walkin by, normally. With a cape. I was like "WHAT?"
Anyway. When I think vulnerable, I think about tears. Crying, I mean. Not just like "hey drops of water that come from your eyes". I think it's because that's the most common way of showing vulnerability. Especially to God. And God LOVES when you make yourself vulnerable. Just kind of saying "here God, I'm laying it all on the line. I know I could totally be shoved to the ground and disappointed, but I KNOW you won't do that"
I find myself to be a vulnerable person. Or at least, I make myself vulnerable. Meaning I cry a lot, yeah, but on a different kind of level. I like to talk to people. A lot.
If you trust me, it pretty much makes my life. When I'm confided in, it makes me feel like I make a difference. It could be a little difference, or it could mean life itself. But I know that there were certain people that were just...there. God brought them to do something, even if it was texting me hello, that made a big difference.
Anyway. I've become okay with being vulnerable. If somebody can learn from my heartbreak, it makes that pain completely worth it. And if they go around telling of my experiences, maybe somebody else needed it too...I just know not to trust that person as much as I used to.
So. I think a few people I know are learning to empty themselves. And as you'd probably guess, it's never too pretty. Emptying out isn't an easy process. I had to cry, I had to say goodbye to people that I thought meant a lot to me, I had to be hurt, i had to fail tests, just to hit rock bottom. It ESPECIALLY sucks when you think rock bottom is much higher than it really is. It's like "Hey i made it! I can start climbing again!" Nope. You've got a while more to go.
And once you hit that bottom, that's where you find it. The epitomy of being vulnerable. When you're just like "I'm done. I'm crying, I'm hurting, God....take me. Take ALL of me. I'm tired of trying to feel better by running away from you" and then bam. It's like you're eternally vulnerable, always open to Him. It's opening the door for the first time to see Him standing there. He was just waiting. Waiting for you to open the door. After that, it's always open. You see Him there. You may forget He's there at some point, but He's ALWAYS standing there.
See, my top five "hardest-crying-moments" have all been at church. Wait, with exception of maybe one. But in all of them, I had just given up.
Given up trying to do it on my own.
On trying to feel loved,
On my own future,
On my passions.
And every time, I was found. Completely and totally. And I used about five tissues per experience, and I mean the kind where you use them up so much that they become one big ball that starts falling apart.

So, that's my little "blurb" for the day.
And just a little side note....I love watching people grow, which seems to be happening at an accelerated pace currently. Or at least, I've started noticing it. It's definitely a new season, and we have enough previous crap to make plenty of fertilizer! I mean I do. I don't know about everybody else.

Last note. On the Hillsong CD "Faith + Hope + Love", you HAVE to listen to #10.... "His Glory Appears"
I'm pretty much in love with this song today. Or just in love with it, period.

And His glory appears
Like the light from the sun
Age to age He shines
Look to the skies
Hear the angels cry
Singing "Holy is the Lord"


-LL

9.11.2009

you.hold.me.now

Shhh...I'm posting from school. Some computer administration person is probably being like "oh no...she's not supposed to do that" while watching me from some little back corner office that never sees the light of day and is fueled by coffee and assorted pastries.
Or not. Well. Anyway. It's Friday. Thank the Lord. LITERALLY, thanking the Lord right now. Although this week was only four days long, it's like it was FOR.EVER.
I think mostly because my patience is really being tested right now. In a lot of different areas. And when I tell anybody this, they say...."pray about it". As generic seven year old as I am, I'm not just saying "Hey God, can you please not let this happen? Thanks Buddy. Oh wait and can I have a barbie for Christmas too?"
No. I got rid of the final shred of that last year. It was funny because I'd find myself praying "God, let Your will be done, even if it's something that I don't want to happen"
Then I'd think "Uh oh. God, you made me say that. Well, give me strength. Everything is in your purpose"
God is a funny one, I tell ya! Not like "oh she said talking muffin!" funny, but like wow God this is crazy ironic! I also just am "hurrying up to wait".
A lot. It's like I look forward to the future when things are different, but I'd like to keep some things the way they are right now.
p.s.- just checked my grade. I have a 95 in Chem Honors. I feel like a frickin genius. Anyway.
But I can't have it the way I want it. God definitely considers what I'm saying when I pray, He KNOWS the desires of my heart, but all things happen the way He wants them to, and I'm becoming content with that.
On a separate note, I'm learning about love. You might be saying, "well duh!" because you learn a little more about love every day. Actually a lot more about love every day. There are some people that I'd never guess lacked love. Or at least, the feeling of love.
Take for example, a girl named Allie. I've known her since last semester, and she's funny. She also has this irrational fear of holding girls' hands. But for the first time, with help from my friend Emma, I noticed that she had scars. Pretty bad ones, too. But she wears certain long sleeved shirts and shorts to cover them up. If you met her, you'd be pretty shocked, I think. She's the girl with the cute EVERYTHING. She's my kinda blonde, she's tall, she's an AMAZING swimmer, she's pretty. She has a boyfriend who actually sits next to me in History, but that's a different story. It seems as if she has it all. But I just saw these scars yesterday, and I felt like she puts on a happy face in hopes of maybe slowly succumbing (is that a word?) to her mask. Like because she wears this mask, maybe it'll become her true face. When, in fact, it never will. While the mask is worn, the face rots away, almost.
I try to be genuine. I'm not saying she should act all depressed all the time and cry and be sad, but you have to acknowledge you're in a hole to climb out. I cry. I laugh. I get super pissed at people and....cry some more? You know this. It's just the way that I am. I'm also not saying that when I greet somebody I say "I have serious abandonment issues that make me feel like I'm completely alone. What's your name?"
No. But there's a way to acknowledge that and instead of letting it dwell in the nooks and crannies of your heart, just flush it out.
THAT, my friend, is why I cry. I don't internalize. I feel it, I get over it. And if I don't feel it, it takes a whole lot more tears later, because I HAVE to feel it.
Such as yesterday. My history teacher finished his three day long story about his entire life, and the sadness of everything was crammed into the last ten minutes, not even kidding. In those last ten minutes, I had to hold my breath to stop from just bawling. It doesn't take nothing to make me cry, but I'm not made of solid steel, either. Nobody may have seen God in his story, but it was labeled as that. Or at least, it was by me. He made all these bad decisions, became an NBA ref, opened his own Baskin Robbins, befriended two teenage girls with cancer, and yet now he's standing in front of a class full of Juniors in a freezing mobile that never warms up. EVER.
It was difficult not to say anything. Because at a few points during this story, if I even opened my mouth I would've started bawling. Luckily, I held myself together.
Something that's a little strange is I've only had one teacher I dislike. My algebra I teacher freshman year also told us his story...about how his father owned a well-known company, and he had an expensive car and a college fund, and he was just all set. Turns out, his father's company goes down the tubes. Not only is their family forced to declare bankruptcy, but also the company. So Mr. Stirrup, my teacher, has to go to college, ASU, for his first year of school. He has to work two jobs to pay for tuition, go to school, and maybe sleep. He gets kicked out for his low grades, goes to a community college, and gets back into ASU as a sophomore. All in all, he ends up getting his Masters in Mathematics and other mathematical stuff, and that was it.
And this is why God is one funny guy! I've met these two teachers that pretty much convinced me that everything can just turn around.
With that, I remember "God uses ordinary people to do extraordinary things!". A lot of people would be like "that doesn't make sense" but to me, it does. Completely. Because that's pretty much gonna be my life story.
In a blog after apex, I was saying how Sonia said that Lovely Leah was kind of an oxymoron. Now I think my whole life is just one big oxymoron. Since I'm going against what a lot of people tell me and all.

Okay one more "blurb" (go Sydney!) and I'm done. I might be interviewed to be on the "culture/religion" page of the yearbook. I thought this was funny.
Why do more people accept the fact that their friends smoke pot than the fact that they're on fire for God?
It's like "So and so went to whatsherface's party and got soooo wasted and slept with whatsherface's boyfriend and now she's pregnant!"
"Oh yeah dude, I heard. So did guyman's girlfriend. She's such a..."
But with us, you hear "Did you know she's a hardcore Christian chick?"
"Psht, are you serious? She's SUCH a hypocrite. I hate people like that."
Annnddd I'm pretty sure if I slapped somebody for insulting my "religion" I'd TOTALLY win over the Vice Principals. Don't worry. I'm not gonna hit anybody.
I just think it's funny that they squeeze us into a page in a yearbook along with the Buddhists, Mormons, and Muslims. Right next to an advertisements for Planned Parenthood or something.
That's just...not right.

Okay okay. I have...twenty minutes left in the library. But I think I'm done with this blog post.
I love you all.
Happy Patriots Day.

-LL

9.08.2009

the.first.and.the.last

Well, it's been a good/bad/ugly day. You know? I had a bad headache since I woke up this morning. It disappeared mid-afternoon, and I was rather happy. You have to understand that I don't get migraines. At all. AND my teeth hurt. Like...on random days my teeth will just start hurting.
I know I start a lot of thoughts with "Can i just say?" but...
Can I just say that Brooke Fraser is like my hero? I mean, Aundi IS my hero, but Brooke Fraser is like my hero. Mostly because I want to be like her.
Anyway. It's been a day that's tested my endurance and patience in many places.
You know how everybody ALWAYS says "Good things come to those who wait?"
Yeah I better be getting some pretty dang good things! It seems as if I'm waiting for everything. While at the same time, I'm learning to be content with the present conditions before everything explodes goodness on me. Like the people that are anxious for school to start in like mid-July...they're like "I want school to start!"
but right when they get there they realize how much they appreciate summer.
And I'm feeling this way with guitar. I'm SO glad that God's put this kind of calling on me, but learning guitar is some hard stuff! Literally. I was complaining about my blisters a few weeks ago. They hurt, but they looked alright. Now my blisters are all peeling and they just look oh-so-delightful! But it is funny to see people's reactions when they see my fingers...like "WHAT DID YOU DO?"
"Oh I was playing guitar"
And I'm learning the song I wrote...which is getting a little difficult. Like I was in the guitar lesson with Justin, and a couple times I went "AH!!!!" and just kinda sighed. But it's in those times when I remember what God told me. Word for word, almost. It's like "Well, I'm pretty sure God's not wrong. Actually, I KNOW he's not wrong. I KNOW that for a fact! He's NEVER wrong!"
And then I get all excited and just want to play my guitar and worship. That's another reason I'd like to learn. Because I can NEVER give God enough praise. NEEEVVVEEERRR!
There are so many levels I'm growing on. Not just juniors jeans (eek! not really. I hope.), but spiritually. Like Aundi's put it before...it's just an addiction. Like, we look for SO many answers at first, but then we're kinda just sitting in the classroom saying "teach me something!" from the Almighty Teacher!

On another note. We have vocab every week, right? One of last week's words was "inconcievable."
I knew what inconcievable meant, I had heard the word, but when I read the definition I was like "God."
just like that. God. That's what I thought. Then I went to pre-calc, and Taylor talked about her experience scuba diving. She said that if you're afraid of water at ALL, don't go scuba diving.
And that reminded me of God again. We can't just dip our feet in and decide that scuba diving isn't for us. We have to DIVE in. Just dive into the never ending love of God! The inconcievable depths of God. We may have to let go of land, of what we think to be stable and what we know, but when we lose what seems to be everything, we find SO MUCH MORE!
We find an inconcievable amount of things. Love. Peace. Joy. Compassion. Truth. Humility.
And the thing is, we don't have to be patient to recieve God. You just...decide. In that second. It's kind of like something I said a looonnngg time ago in a blog post--
"this moment will never happen again"
It's trippy to think about. Like bam. That second was just there and gone. Yet compared to eternity, it's nothing.

For my last thought: Yahweh. I think that's my new favorite word. I think I wrote a blog (how many times do I say this per post? Too many) a while ago about how I learned that when Lord is written like LORD, it means Yahweh. All-powerful God. Not just the daddy-father we think of Him as, but the One that holds the world in His hands. The Creator. The Beginning and the End!
I could go on FOREVER with His names. Which I tend to do a LOT actually! It's kinda strange.

Anyway. If you haven't listened to Faith + Hope + Love by Hillsong, DO IT. Listen to "Yahweh" especially.

-LL
42. Beat somebody at air hockey. (Which has actually never happened)

I beat Nicholas Tealer 7-6. Once. Needless to say he's beaten me other times. Rather badly. But once is just enough!!!

9.06.2009

rid.me.of.myself.

Do you ever just wake up on a day and decide it's gonna be different? I thought that was today. I woke up and felt like something was...different.
Of course, I wake up without my glasses on. Because only somebody with mental issues sleeps with their glasses on. But today was extra blurry. I also felt like I was tan today! I know, I know, you're probably like "Whoa Leah you must've been VERY blind. Color blind included" but to that I say, "Thanks for your...errmm...honesty?"
And after this "different" day, nothing of great importance happened. But it's like I'm one day older.
NO WAY, RIGHT?
They say you learn something new every day. Like....
"I learned that letting an eight year old boil milk on the stove because she's 'done it a million times' is not always a good idea because you're the one who ends up having to scrub it off!"
That was yesterday's.
But there's a relationship I'm REALLY working at right now. The one with God, obviously!
And there's STILL the lyrics that resignate in my mind
Lead me to the cross
Where Your love poured out
Bring me to my knees
Lord I lay me down
Rid me of myself
I belong to You

I mean, I don't own this song, yet I've heard it at LEAST a dozen times. And this time was just...different. Especially saying "Bring me to my knees"
And I've been gaining this revelation little by little...
but to see how tall a mountain is, you have to stand at the bottom. If you start at the top, you can only go down. But to appreciate and know EXACTLY how tall that mountain is, you have to start in the valley. You have to climb it little by little.
Another part of this knowledge...is that we have to FALL to our knees. We don't just kinda do a little shuffle, or slowly let ourselves down, we FALL. We plunge. It's not a gentle process.
And yet, while I was realizing this during prayer, I started to laugh.
Because I realized how funny God is. AGAIN.
We're always saying "Cry out to God" and other things along those lines, right?
Well I figured out I'm a literal person. I cry. ALL. THE. TIME.
But I was just made that way. I'm beginning to appreciate what God made me as. I think as a new teenager, you realize that God put you with freckles and skinny ankles because that's exactly the way He wanted you.

With all I just said, I realized that nobody understands me. But there's a purpose to that. If somebody did understand me COMPLETELY, that's one less thing I'd rely on God for. I mean, He wants me to Himself. He's the relentless lover, after all! In service my parents weren't there. Which reminded me of Apex, and how Michelle prayed for me and said that nobody would understand how I changed but me. I gotta say I hate it when somebody reads my mail. At least, that's what my mom calls it. When God just TOTALLY shows you up and says "see, lovely? I listen. I also speak!"
So I guess I just have a lot going on in my mind right now.
And with God dominating, the little room I have left for Pre-calc equations and the amendments is being used by homecoming.
Oh.dear.goodness. You know when you're just SO close to something happening? I'm pretty much a text or two away from telling the guy I want to ask me that I want to go with him. So for this, I'm preparing with Jack Johnson.

Jack Johnson = a broken heart set to music

Which I'm hoping doesn't happen, but if it does, Danielle has to buy me sonic! Cherry limeade baby!
If he's like oh okay! Then I get no sonic, but I have a date. Woop de woop.

Okay. I love you all. I know I've been blogging a lot lately.
Get your comment boxes working so I can comment on your work!!!

-LL
*special bucket-list item: have a date to a dance. Has never happened.

9.05.2009

is.she.misleading.or.is.she.misled?

So I just had chocolate chip pancakes. I've been wanting them...since...hmmm...like six months ago. Anyway. Not the point.
I'm lovin the new (actually old) Kimya Dawson CD. So aptly named "I'm sorry that sometimes I'm mean." Crazy lyrics and all. Believe it or not, there's a song about child abuse. Weird, right? Right.
Well I have a story.
So last night my old self defense partner and current locker partner, Kelsey, asked me to go to the rockies game with her. I haven't been to a rockies game since I was like...ten, so I was like oh alright, they're free tickets, I have a ride and all...
mid-script. Hannah got those nice pink iced cookies for her birthday from her friend. Ya know, the really un-healthy kind? As she was grabbing one, I said "Enjoying your unhealthy cookies?"
and she replied "You're not"
dang Hannah. Dang.
I had to ask my mom, of course. And she was like "well, I wouldn't. I just don't have a good feeling about it." I wasn't exactly CRAZY about going, so I just decided that I wouldn't. While I was in the shower today, preparing for a day of doing nothing, my mom tries to yell at me. There's nothing more pointless than people trying to yell at you through a closed door with water running. But turns out I got a babysitting job. For the first time in like....mmm...a year and a half? It's from 4 to 11, which is some pretty good money for just watching two little girls that do what they're told.
And guess where they're going?

To the rockies game.

You have to understand that I have NO money. I think I might have a dime. That's it. And getting an amount of even $20 is just...crazy. Because there's a lot of things that I NEED to buy. Oddly enough, most of them are things having to do with theatre...anyway.
God just makes me laugh. I didn't try fighting my mom when she said no, and I was just okay. I don't do ANYTHING but homework, chill at home, and go to church on weekends. But who wants to busy themselves on the weekend just to go back to school and busy themselves some more? Not me. When I get no sleep, I slowly go crazy. That's no bueno. No bueno at all.
And through the past couple days, I've realized that I'm tired of pretending. Pretending to act like things are okay with me, mostly. And pretending I'm like everybody else who constantly need affirmation and friends to surround them.
I'll give you an example. There's a girl that I know on two different levels. One on the more spiritually oriented level, and another on a more fleshly oriented level. I know I'm gonna be a dork for citing Kelly Clarkson, but when I think of her, I think "sewn together but so broken up inside." On the latter, she's confident. She has a lot of friends, she's pretty, she's smart from what I can tell. But when she says the not-no-pretty words or makes inappropriate jokes, she makes this face for a split second. Especially when she knows I can hear her. It's crazy how when the Holy Spirit gets inside of you, He'll just never leave. He gives you that condemnation that makes you feel like total crap. I know she'll slowly learn that pretending that it's not there just makes her feel worse. After having such a spiritual and emotional breakthrough, it's something you just CAN'T avoid.
Like when I first met her, I really admired her confidence. And then it was like WHOA. How can somebody so...put together be so broken?
So. To my resolution. I'm done with facades! And I'd but the little funky c, but french isn't my strong point. That is french, right? anybody know?
If I cry, I cry. If I need to tell somebody something, I'll say it. If nothing needs to be said, I won't pretend that I need to keep talking.
That is inspired by the ever-truthful Ecclesiastes 3!
A time to weep and a time to laugh. (3:4)
a time to be silent and a time to speak. (3:7)
So...I guess that's it.

 I love you all. Truly.

-LL
40. Walk to somewhere in Parker...from my house.
I'm rethinking this one...

9.04.2009

i'm.melted.and.left.all.alone

I think I'll give you a lyric from the ever-awesome Kimya Dawson:
i lived alone so i took him home
he doesn't love me but he keeps me company
everything is alright

 Does this just describe a lot of people in the world? I love the lyrics of Kimya Dawson. And Regina Spektor, but that's a different story. Like the song I'm listening to right now. Some of her lyrics don't make any sense at all, but some of them have great depth.
Silver pink ponies flying over me
you may feel strange, well, you are an angel
stuck in tight pants

stuck at a high school dance
stuck doing people things not knowing you have wings
you are my serenade you are my lemonade
you are my soul throw it all out the window.

That was obviously one that didn't really make a whole lot of sense.
I'm kind of in a weird mood right now. I've decided that there are a lot of things I'm just...done with. Like a month ago, I wrote a blog about how I'm black and white. And I've found out that the more I say that, the more I'm confused about what black and white TRULY is. It's like, I have to prove to myself that I'm black and white. I guess I need to stop telling myself I'm this way.
It's funny to see how my opinion changes from day to day. Like today, I stepped in gum. It was great. I was SO happy. NOT. I think my hope for the entire human race has just been...a little dimmed. Like the other day, I saw a girl just spit out her gum. Like it kinda just fell out of her mouth. But I could tell that it was on purpose. I wanted to just go shove her and be like HEY CHICA THAT'S NOT HOW THE WORLD WORKS!
But then I remembered...oh wait, yeah it is. Or at least, that's how it works in our school. Maybe even in Parker. Anyway. It's like every day I spend walking alone, I learn that I'm truly alone in a crowded hallway. Nobody is me, and a lot of people walk right past me. Sometimes I get run into, I might get flat-tired, but in the end, I'm alone. Yet while being alone, I'm never alone. It's like Jesus is holding my hand just walking calmly.
Like I was telling Danielle earlier, a lot of people ask me if I'm about to cry when they see me walking. No, I say, I'm just alone with my thoughts. It's like in the midst of a thousand people, I can just think. No talking, no laughing...and that's just okay.
You may be thinking "Wow Leah, you sound like SUCH a loner"
Yeah, yeah I do. But even as a loner, I'm never alone! I'm kind of just...here.
I remembered a song and I HAD to tell Danielle. Crawl by Superchick. I've kinda grown away from Superchick, but in the end of the song, it says
When I am lost / You have not lost me
It's just...great. And even with my parents, I feel like they just don't understand. Not in that kind of "NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME!" Nirvana-fan metal head kinda way. I'm finding things out for myself.
Like even with my mom. After Apex, I was supposed to tell her the Word I got. Yet I never did. I still haven't. It's been a month! I guess I'll tell her sometime. Before I go to college, obviously. When she realizes that I don't declare a journalism major haha.

Anyway. I love you all.
you are my serenade, you are my lemonade

-LL
39. Convince somebody I have some kinda unheard of disease because I don't get vaccinated.

this is probably one of the bucket list items that I'm anxious to complete. VERY anxious to complete.

9.03.2009

my.dreams.are.me

Hmmm. West Side Story is my love. Seriously.
So Sonia Morgan and I have had similar blogging posts lately. Did you notice how I didn't put commas in that last sentence? It's driving me crazy. I have grammar OCD, I'm pretty sure.
But it was funny.
On a side note, ya'll should get twitters. Everybody says they're too complex, when they're really not. If Paanii can figure it out, so can you! I LOVE getting tweets in the middle of the day. Especially from my cousin...anyway. Point is that you know a whole lot more about my life through my tweets. It's like a family...of birds. We tweet each other. Eh? Eh? *rickshaw*
In theatre, one of the scenes had to have two people portraying a couple. Turns out it was a girl playing a guy, so two girls holding hands. And the girl being the boyfriend has a thing about holding hands with people other than her boyfriend. So instead of rehearsing, we were testing out how people responded to holding hands with the fingers laced.
And I realized something. A lot of the relationships we have with people have their physicial actions assigned. Boyfriend = hold hand. Best friend = hug. And so on.
Like I assign people smells. And you're gonna think I'm crazy, but that's okay. I already think I'm crazy.
Especially people I spend a lot of time with. And even some I don't spend time with. Like for example...Aundi smells like lilac. Nick smells like foundation. And so on.
It's weird that I like those two smells. I think that helps with why I like spending time with them, too.
So yes. You're sitting there at your computer thinking "Wow. I have a friend that designates smells to people. Like a dog. I have a friend that is a dog."
You're absolutely right. But it's kinda just...something we do. We let people assign what is normal and what is not. Like with previous boyfriends, I'd always get "you guys don't even hold hands?" and my reply would be "well, I guess sometimes. Not really though"
just because that's not really how I roll. I also don't just hug people willy-nilly. If somebody wants to hug me, I let them. Simple as that.
And we move past that. To dancing.
In the words of myself,

"Nuff said"

"Well."

"Dear goodness"

Use any of those and that's how I feel about dancing and school dances in general. I understand that I just haven't gotten a good school dance yet, but I'm reluctant to try my hand at a good one! So I decided that if it doesn't work out to my pre-set conditions, I just won't go. I'm not being super specific with these conditions, but with them being what they are, I can't NOT have a good homecoming. One of them is I'm not wearing heels. I'm not stepping in barf three years running.
The other three are a secret. But, you'll find out if they happen! So just try to coordinate nice thingsfor me, kay?
Just kidding. I figure if I don't go to homecoming, I'll do something more fun...instead of buying an expensive dress just to be rubbed the wrong way by people I don't even know. I'll leave it at that.

So I hope you all had a good day. I'll include something random since Morgan is now including conversations in hers...
a girl, Carly, and I were talking in guitar...just because we were talking about Will Smith and Will Ferrell. And then I was talking about the Pursuit of Happyness, which is a CRAZY amazing movie. But we decided we wanted our children to have cute little afros like Jaden Smith. Because he's just SO adorable.
That litle conversation fueled one with Paanii, which has evolved into something...entirely different. Today's just a weird day. Anyway.

Homecoming is in exactly a month. We'll see how this story unravels.
Which reminds me of a lyric...the road less traveled shows happiness unraveled!
So I guess I'm unraveling happiness.

I love you all. Sorry this post is so long. I have hardly any homework.
-LL
38. Get somebody un-lost.

9.01.2009

everybody.dies.but.not.everyone.lives.

Can I just say DDUUUUDDDEEE I LOOOVVVESSSS MY NEW LAYOUT!
I had my white one. Blah blah. And then I was like no. Sydney has a cool one. Morgan has a cool one. I need a cool one.
So here it is. With my rainbow, bird, coffee, clipboard, and whatever else! I think it's awesome.
Anyway. I was just REALLY excited. If I could live in my blog, I would be content with that.

Okay. Onto something I've been wanting to say for a while.
My spanish teacher says vocab. A LOT. And not just that, but she says it weird. Like voCAB! Emphasis on the cab. I'm the only one in my class that has realized this.

Onto another subject. It's that time of year again! That's right, Homecoming! Brush up on your innuendos, work on your grinding, buy a dress and you're set!
...that is, if you're a typical high schooler. Which I'd like to think I'm not. I don't even wanna go, really. Perhaps a trip to Chili's instead with an ex-homecoming queen (ahem bundimeister cough cough). I gotta say I love homecoming week, just because you get to dress all wacky, but the dance is just...no. Both years have been ruined by a guy I'd been chasing. Two different guys, mind you. One stalks me now and one hardly talks to me. Just because we don't see eachother much anymore, we're still good friends!
But it doesn't bring out the best in people. Sure, guys are dressed in their ties and khakis while girls are just plain gorgeous (most of the time), but it's like "hey! we're SO dressed up, we'll just get all nasty on my new homecoming dress from macy's!"
Both years I've also stepped in vomit. Bare foot. If you're not gagging by now, you have some kinda iron stomach. That's why if I go this year, I'm wearing chucks. I don't even care what my mom or anybody else says! It SCREAMS classy. Like "I'm so classy, I refuse to mutilate my feet!"
That's how classy.
And I'm a zombie the next Sunday morning. At least they don't have after-homecoming or something. That would be...not good.
Anyway. I have a month and two days to decide if I'm going. I could go to multiple homecomings, I could go to none at all. And yet I'm laying it all on the line for a date. See, I've never had a homecoming date.
Paanii told me to ask Tommy. I laughed. He was serious. He apparently isn't too smart.
I'd like a date, actually, but not a clingy one. But not one that's like "hey! we're here! see ya later, leah!"
And believe it or not, I don't wanna go to Chap's homecoming. Running into people I know is just...awkward sometimes. Especially when I'm not wearing my glasses. Oh dear goodness. That's another thing. Chucks and glasses. In true Leah fashion. And I'll request David Bowie or something along those lines. Forget Metro Station. Forget Katy Perry. Bring out the old school...fool...(?)

Something I decided today. Even though it's overplayed in my guitar class, I'd like to also be serenaded with "Collide" by Howie Day. So generic, but so...I don't even know!
That leaves it at three songs.
Collide.
Angel.
Quelqu'un M'a Dit. (Somebody Told Me)
 And that is all.
Ah. Well. I feel rather...content. That's pretty good. I think I've gotten to the point in my life where time moves at its own pace, people do what they want, things happen, and I'm still here. Like you know those above the influence commercials? Not saying I'm under the influence or anything. But like everything moves around the person and they're still just...there? But I'm enjoying it. Especially after reading Ecclesiastes, which I've FINALLY learned how to spell. I kinda stumbled upon it a month or so ago, but now it's in my devotional reading. So I'm like OH I get it, God! I'm supposed to REMEMBER this!
And it's a little difficult sometimes. But I think that's putting a bit of joy into my days.
Anyway.  No me gusta tarea. But sadly, I have to go do it. Frown.

oh. by the way. my title is from "Cross the Line" by Superchick...the music video just came out and it's...intense? Anyway. I love that line, just because you have to really wrap your mind around it to FINALLY get it.

I love you all.
-LL
37. Watch an entire season of M*A*S*H